Orange Juice

Chapter Twenty-One

 Work seemed to go smoothly for Dante that day.

 Hassan had walked him over to his job under the heating yellow summer sun early in the morning. Being a person who adored blazing hot weather, it was a good start for the day to have such smoking heat wash over his body.

 Hassan would disagree and say he disliked summers with a raging passion, wondering why anyone in the whole wide world would even prefer the season of sweat, sloth, and low food appetite.

 It was probably the biggest disagreement the couple had, and often times they had full-on debates and playful arguments over it, each trying to convince the other of his own point of view.

 Reaching the workplace, Dante gave Hassan a quick hug before the two parted ways. When he walked in, he greeted his fellow employees while wearing his striped yellow and white apron around his body. He had a seven-hour shift that day, working from 8 in the morning till 3 at noon.

 His entire shift seemed to go smoothly besides the few stares he would get every now and then, but that was nothing too out of the usual or beyond the regularly expected.

 The diner was not too crowded yet, so the orders did not overwhelm him and neither did the service exhaust him too much. Before he knew it, he looked up at the red ticking clock in the kitchen and saw that the end of his shift was nearing.

 Heading back to where the tables were, Dante picked up the half-full plates from one of the white tables that had just finished their meal, having ordered an abundant amount of food and barely eaten anything from it.

 Those types of people really bothered him. They were one of his least favorite kind customers at the diner.

 They do not even bother asking to pack the rest of the food for take-out, they just leave with the knowledge that all of that food would go away to be wasted and thrown in garbage dispensers, but without the guilt or care over it.

 But then again, part of him also secretly anticipated such customers because they gave him a chance to eat from the leftovers which sometimes even amounted to an entire meal.

 Dante would always try to save up on food expenses, eating whatever he could before making his way back home. And so whenever and wherever he found the chance, he always took it.

 On his way back to the kitchen, he threw an almost cold fry in his mouth, not knowing how grave of a mistake that would be. In the kitchen, he gathered all the food on one plate, hurriedly eating half of what remained of the burger, the untouched side salad, the salty fries, and drinking the remaining sprite in which the ice had melted and dilated the acidic taste.

 He chewed while doing the dishes, going in for another bite every time he put each piece of kitchenware on the dryer.

 His shift was finally done. He was going to finish washing up the plates and go back home on a semi-good note when his manager suddenly stomped through the door, wiping the sweat that trickled down his bald head as he made his way over to Dante.

 "I've given you way too many chances, kid." He spoke quietly so as to not alert the customers outside, but the heated look on his face made it clear to Dante that this was a conversation that would not end too pleasantly.

 "Is somethin' wrong sir?" Dante asked in confusion while turning the faucet off.

"Is something wrong-" The manager repeated in disbelief before pinching the bridge of his nose, "Do you have any idea how many complaints I get every day specifically about you? You're driving all my customers away, dammit, I can't afford that!"