Earlier this week, I told you one of my fast food adventures. So, for my newest song story, I figured I’d go ahead and tell you another one. This one comes from my time at Arby’s.
I started there about a year after I graduated high school. When I started, I was a closer. That meant I went in at 4 in the afternoon and left whenever we got everything done for the night. If staffed properly, there should be 4 people there every night: a manager, someone on ‘front line’ (running the drive-thru), someone on ‘back line’ (making the sandwiches), and someone in ‘back room’ (doing the dishes and taking care of food prep).
I was almost always in back room. That meant I helped out on back line until the dinner rush was over, then go back and start on the dishes. Once the dining room closed, I had to go out and clean it, gathering up all of the trays as I went so I could wash them, then spend the rest of the night doing dishes. Then, right before I left, I’d have to put the roast beef in the oven so it’d be ready when the morning people got there. There were two perks to being the one doing the back room: One, you rarely had to deal with customers and two, there was a radio in the back that you got to listen to, provided you didn’t turn it up loud enough for the customers out in the dining room to hear it.
One night, the guy on back line was a little tired of my music. Apparently, 3 straight hours of The Offspring isn’t for everyone…..weird, right?
I, being the nice guy that I am, said that he could control the radio for a little while. Out came The Offspring, in went Garth Brooks. I’m not a huge fan of country music. Most of it is not for me. I do, however, like Garth Brooks.
We had listened to almost all of the CD. Just as the last song started playing (The Dance), our manager came back to ask me to do something. She (I’ll call her Mrs. Fudd, because…well, that’s what I used to call her. She talked like Elmer Fudd.) got done telling me what she wanted me to do and got a disgusted look on her face. “Why are we listening to this country crap,” she complained.
Now, had she asked me to change the CD nicely, I would’ve just let it drop. Since she was a huge bitch about it, however, something had to be done. So, I hit the repeat button on the radio…. and that’s where the radio stayed for the rest of the night. We listened to The Dance for 5 hours in a row.