"Archie! I need two double cheeseburgers, no mayonaise. STAT!" Archie looked up to see his pudgey faced boss staring at him with a look of discontent. "Like this is a f***ing hospital? If that man across the counter doesnt get his cheeseburgers he's gonna die from pulmonary non-aspiration," Archie thought to himself. "And thats a good thing." The customer of the day was a tall slender man. Well dressed. Fancy shoes. Gel in his hair. Archie guessed that he worked at the business complex around the corner. He saw hundreds of these guys every day. He did his best to give them the benefit of the doubt. Not to group them into the pompous businessman stereotype. But too often he would take their order as a cashier. Waiting for them to make eye contact. Maybe an innocent passing smile. Some sort of gesture that suggested they had a humble soul. Nothing. Well usually nothing. Every once in a while he would come across someone that was kind enough to offer a signal of modest appreciation for his fast food service. And what service it was.
Today he wasnt feeling so good about this particular customer. Archie's boss spun around again, "Archie! I dont want to have to tell you again! Pick it up!"
"Sure thing boss," he replied.
He cruised back to his prep station in a nonchalant kind of manner. He was the only other crew member working today. His manager decided to cut the normal crew down from four to just two because of the "tough times." This meant that the same number of customers per day had to wait about twice as long to get their food.
Archie was under doctor's order not to exert himself too much. His last echocardiagram revealed some irregular heart patterns and he was prescribed meds to counteract the effect. It was all experimental. Archie has had heart problems ever since he can remember. He spent his first four months of life in a neonatal intensive care unit. Since then he has had regular checkups, seen a couple dozen different doctors, and been popping pills on a regular basis.
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