Weird Day
Sunday, April 23, 2006

I don't know why I picked this as my first entry, but I thought some people might get a kick out of it.

I was at work today (I get one shift a week on Sundays). I work at an A&W in my city, and since I'm not there for 6 days out of the week, a lot gets passed by me that I'm not informed of.

A few months ago though, we started doing deliveries, and I still haven't gotten the hang of it. Well i have, it's just whenever there's a delivery phoned in or whatever it's like the gates of hell have been broken and molten hot lava and body parts are pouring out.

Everything goes hectic, and people panic, and they tell whent he food is needed, and yell and get angry when other stuff needs to be done because they're working with the delivery.

So, (as you can tell I'm a writer and I just can't spit out my point. This is the fact that's earned me many high grades in English and many harsh words from my mother) the delivery man came at the specified time and....

No food.

We didn't have any of the food ready, because, hey it's a Sunday and we're all lethargic and dreading to go back to school (it was me and two 16-year-olds working the front, and a fine job we were doing until then).

So he got angry. Very angry.

His face turned red, his eyebrows arched, his teeth grinded, fisted hands and the whole shebang. And he exploded like Mt. Vesuvius.

Yelling irately at us, telling us he had other deliveries to make and such, why we scrambled to get the food made.

Honestly, half of me was disgusted int his guy to be yelling at three teenagers, who were only trying to do their job the best they could with the hectic deliveries and all. And the other half of me was terrified and crying because I thought this man was going to literally kill me on the spot.

I bagged the food dexterously and swiftly handed him the bag, with my sweetest apologetic grin, and a squeaky, "Sorry."

Than, out of no where, he exclaimed, "Oh my God, what an awesome way to spell that name!" as he looked at my name tag.

I blushed and mumbled my reserved thank yous but the guy was like dumbfounded. He kept claiming, that my name spelt the way it is, was the coolest name he'd ever seen.

He even made me come back over so he could look at it better (my nametag that is (And at first I thought he was being sly, but then I realized that the shirt we're required to wear is like a bowling top and shows nothing at all).

He read it over, shook his head, and chuckled. Happier than when he came in for sure. He smiled at me, and said thank you for the food and wished me a good day.

Later on he came back for another delivery and I was still there. He laughed and said that I still had the coolest name and that it made his day.

That kinda made me feel weird, but whatever. The guy was happy and I made him happy so, woohoo for us.

The point of this story (this long brain-solidifying story) is that my name (the one I'm not to fond of (not Abby) is Kayleigh.

And I kinda like it now.

And later that night when we got bored (Sundays are slow) we played say your name backwards (we're all so intelligent at A&W) I lost first and I didn't mind at all (after all who could say Hgielyak? it's like a typo)

The End



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2006 April