THE AFTERNOON I WORKED AT BURGER KING

I had a lot of jobs in my youth. Not good jobs, but jobs nonetheless. The type of jobs that make it extremely easy to quit and walk away from, which is actually a bad habit I had formed. I once was employed at K-Mart as a lot attendant. I managed to hang onto this sweet gig for a month and a half. Then one Saturday evening a few of my friends drove up to me in the parking lot. "We're going to a party, want to join?", they asked. A responsible individual in this situation would respectfully decline their invitation, and finish working their shift. I was not a responsible individual. There was no hesitation on my behalf whatsoever. I was in the back seat of the car before they were able to finish saying the word Party. For all I knew they could have been inviting me to a Parquet floor installation seminar. Anything would've been more exciting than pushing around shopping carts for $6.00 an hour.



A month and a half was actually good for me back then. Some jobs didn't even last that long. None were shorter lived than the afternoon I worked at Burger King. Now I'm not going to tell you horror stories about working in fast food. That seems to be the trend with people who reminisce about their experiences in the industry. " Don't ever eat there, Ever", they'll say. Then they will go into detail about how they witnessed someone spit in an unruly customer's burger, and how food gets dropped on the floor a lot. That's going to be common wherever you go. If you are a dickhead to the people who prepare your food, then you probably deserve a Loogi Burger, but no one should be that worried about their food touching the ground. I mean, if you are going to order a 1200 calorie portion of greasy, deep fried chicken tenders and fries accompanied by a Medium (72 ounce) bucket of Pepsi, the last thing you should be concerned about is that one of your chickens got dropped on the floor.



The day I worked at Burger King was hot. It was real hot. One might even describe it as being hotter than balls. It was July, and we were in the middle of a vicious heat wave. I was prepping myself to work the brutal 12pm - 4pm shift. Upon arriving I was given a freshly ironed Burger King shirt, along with a hat and a nameless nametag. "Our label maker is broken", said the manager Gus. He then led me to the back of the broiler which apparently was were I was to be stationed at for the reminder of the afternoon. Gus introduced me to Larry, the autistic 10 year Burger King veteran who took great pride in his job. Larry reminded me of Dustin Hoffman from "Rain Man". Whether or not he was a savant was still to be determined. Gus told me to work with Larry, and then walked away. At this point, I think Gus hates me. Why would he do this to me?



Larry shows me the in's and out's of the broiler. The job was to take the frozen burger patties and put them on the conveyor belt. Then retrieve the flame broiled patties on the other end, and stick them in the designated pattie tray, where they would remain for god knows how long. It was even hotter behind the broiler than it was outside. I was miserable. I was also starving. I had forgotten to eat lunch that day, and the chicken tender tray was only a couple of feet away from me, taunting me and calling my name. " Have you ever been on an airplane Ron?" , Larry asked. I then remembered I was wearing a nameless nametag. Larry thought my name was Ron. This bothered me a little for I've never been a fan of the name Ron, however I was far too hot and hungry to correct him. "I went on an airplane once" , Larry blurted out. " The pilot's name was Joe and then I met the co-pilot and his name was Joe, and there was a nice lady flight attendant. I don't remember her name. Oh wait I think it was Joe." I barely listened to Larry's rant, but I knew a couple of things for sure. First, I doubt any of those people's names were Joe. Also I had to devise a scheme to get some of those chicken tenders. " Uh-Oh, we need more patties. let's go Ron." he yelled.  Larry then ushered me to the walk-in freezer to grab another box of frozen burger patties.



My first step in that glorious freezer sent chills up and down my spine. I felt a tingling sensation, like I has just bit into a York Peppermint Patty, all while careening down a Slip n' Slide with sprinklers going off all around me. This was my new favorite place, and I knew that the only way to beat the heat was to spend more time there. I started volunteering to make the trips to the freezer, and on my way there I snagged a handful of chicken tenders, because I felt I deserved a snack. Then Larry informed me that he was taking his lunch break. This was my first true Burger King test. I would have to man the broiler all by myself. A task I managed to excel at almost immediately with little to no effort. Larry was impressed. "Good job Ron" , he shouted upon his return. " You're the king Ron. You're the king of the broiler." For some reason, those words struck a chord with me. I felt a sense of pride. Me.... king of the broiler, I liked the sound of it. I decided to celebrate by eating a handful of chicken tenders in the walk-in freezer.



The next 45 minutes or so, dragged on like the second half of "Knocked up" I was listening to Larry tell me about the pet hamster he was going to get from Petco later after work. He was trying to think of good hamster names. I suggested Joe. He liked it. I noticed a girl I knew pulling up to the drive thru window, and went up to talk to her. " I didn't know you worked here" , she said. "Yeah, I kinda run this place" , I replied. I wanted to hook her up with some free food so she would think I was cool, but I was still new and didn’t want to over step any boundaries. “ Check out all these napkins” , I boasted while handing her an unnecessarily thick stack of napkins. “ You want napkins. I got napkins. I got the hook-up on these napkins.” She didn’t seem impressed by my napkin game, so I had to resort to plan B. I grabbed a Happy Meal toy from the toy bin and offered it to her. She accepted the toy and smiled at me, before driving off.

I felt pretty cool after that. That is until the conversation I had with Gus. “ How are you going to pay for that toy you gave away, Ryan?” , he sternly inquired. “ Umm, I don’t know” , I answered. “ Well, we will figure out something” he snapped back at me. “ Aren’t they 99 cents?” , I asked. Gus said nothing and instead gave me a dirty look and headed back to the office. I have several thoughts racing through my head at this point. I’ve got to find a way to get on Gus’s good side. I’m glad he didn’t see me giving away all those napkins. I wonder if there is a way I can blame this on Ron.

After the confrontation with Gus, I headed back to feed whopper’s through the broiler to appease the gluttonous pigs awaiting them in the drive-thru. “ Have you ever been on an airplane Ron?” , Larry shouted at me. For Christ’s sake, I thought to myself. If I hear this airplane story one more time, I'm going to dunk my head in the deep fryer. I sought refuge in my happy place ( the walk-in freezer) with a handful of chicken tenders. Upon returning from the freezer, Gus was asking if anyone wanted to go home early due to business being slow. I quickly volunteered, and clocked out around 3:30. I almost lasted the entire 4 hours. I returned the next day to see when my next shift was, only to find out that I was not on the schedule. Not only that, but Gus had fired Ron too. It was a sad day for both of us. A week later I came in to get my paycheck, a whopping $18.75. I drove to the bank and cashed it, then immediately returned to buy some chicken tenders. At this point it had become an addiction.

 I still think about that experience from time to time.  When I think about all that I have achieved and accomplished in my lifetime, the afternoon at Burger King really resonates with me. That one day in July back in 2001 from noon to approximately 3:30, I was Ron, King of the broiler.