>be me
>come home from school
>Dad texts me
>asks if I have a job for the fall
>Tell him no
>JimmiesOfficiallyRustled.jpg
>He tells me that he actually took it upon himself to get some applications from stores in the neighbourhood
>K > go home and find the applications
>It's still early in the day so I decide to fill some out and check out the different job opportunities
>Cue 80's movie montage
>first application is at a 7/11
>Fired for chuckling after being asked how long I would be working here.
>I said that 7/11 was a part time job
>move to next job offer, working at subway
>Fired when I made comments about Jared
>NotSurprising.jpg
>10 jobs later
>working at Italian restaurant
>Dad texts me, he's mad
>"this is the last job offer, if you screw this up so help me god"
>Italiano boss comes outta nowhere, yells at me to "get-a to work"
>start washing dishes because I can't cook well
>Look out small window where we place food to be taken by waiters to tables
>Boss waddles around the kitchen and out the door to greet customers
>guy walks in
>"welcome-a to Mario and luigi-a's Italiano cuisine restaurante"
>Not sure if it's an act or if he's serious
>No really I was confused at this point
>for a brief second I chuckle and he turns around
>He stares at me
>It's the stare that says "So help-a me god, I will tell-a the don what you did and he's-a gonna strangle you with-a piece a linguini"
>Look down quickly
>the customer orders and the chief hurries back to the kitchen
>"hey-a new guy. This-a your chance to a really impress-a me-a"
>He hands me a pot and a bunch of pasta n sauce
>"that-a guy is a the health inspector, ay?
>"I'm trusting-a you to make-a him a bowl of our best-a Italian dish."
>It's called "Pasta, from Mamma" it's-a generic but it doesn't matter, yes? Now get-a to work"
>He leaves to converse with the health inspector
>Incredibly paranoid because this has to be perfect
>almost burn food several times
>Almost ruin it multiple times
>cooking mamma would not be pleased with my shenanigans here
>The chef calls for the food nervously
>I guess he ran out of discussion topics
>Remember it's the last job I have, after that I have to start looking again
>can't let parents down
>Pick up plate of pasta
>open door from kitchen
>Inspector sitting at other end of room
>Begin walking
>Plate starts slipping out of my hands
>Inspector and boss stares as I start stumbling
>Tripping on my own feet
>My palms are sweaty
>knees weak
>arms are heavy
>it's fallen out of the platter already
>Mamma's spaghetti
-
Hah. You got me while I was busy thinking to myself "that's not how -blam!-ing health inspections work..."