More Pizza?

No, thanks.

So the chain of events Tyler set off, since I don't know how to finish a journal in time. Once I get into writing, though, I need to go off to work. Which piles more shit onto what I have to write, but I can't let myself go under. Nah, I can write everything that needs to be written.

First, I need to eat. Lunch ...

When we lose Tyler, since it's no longer the case of if he's leaving or even when he's leaving, we're only going to have Nate, Gary, and Jake.

Jake said he doesn't want to be a manager anymore. He's sick of the bullshit Ralph and Wes hand him. He has to close Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, and he really only gets to drive Friday. I totally forget if he manages or drives Tuesday. He usually works that day, though. All he wants to do, though, is drive. Yesterday he told me that he likes the feel of the wind in his hair, blahblahblah. I laughed at him. He loves me, so it's all good.

I don't remember if I was off the clock or not, but Jake invited me into his truck for chatting and whatnot while he smoked. It's just something he does, though he's never allowed me in before. I always hung around his driver-side window before.

He talked about how Kevin was supposed to take over managing so that Jake could drive. He said that if Kevin didn't learn how to manage before Tyler was gone, he'd most likely quit. Jake wanted to pick up the hours that Tyler was leaving behind and if he doesn't get that, he will quit. Nate was telling us how that if he has to pick up Tyler's hours as well, he'll quit. Nate said he was sick of doing dishes all night, especially when they kept him inside to help me out with phones and carry out when it got to busy. He doesn't make as much money that way. Then, when Gary leaves, he's stuck doing dishes, but he has to do all the deliveries that come up. He doesn't have the time to finish the dishes, keeping him and Jake at the shop later than they should be.

I understand where both of them are coming from, but I told them straight up that I wouldn't know what to do if they all quit at once. I would certainly miss the three of them.

Nate went on to explain that if he, Jake, and Tyler all quit, they'd have to get new drivers, and once those drivers learned of the shit they had to deal with, they'd all quit, too. It'd just be a viscous cycle.

I've seen Jake angry, but I don't think I've ever seen him as stressed as he was that night. I followed him out the first time, and he lit up a fake joint. Frick if I know what that is. He encouraged me to try it.

I always thought I would say no. I was raised to say no, I learned to say no. I have no idea why I actually walked around the door and took it. Maybe I'm falling in with the wrong friends, but I have a respect for the people I work with. Jake's one of the guys I hold closer to me. Him, Tyler, and Kevin, mostly.

Later, when Jake opened the passenger-side door for me to get in, he told me that it calmed him down just to see my try it. Hell, whatever.

I must have been off the clock then, because he had to go inside, putting out his cigarette, and told me to stay white, stay American. We did a little handshake, and I left.

I rather wish last night ended the same way.

Yesterday was pretty damn hectic. It wasn't so bad for the first few hours. It was steady, a little annoying, but not too bad. Wes let Nate go off the clock, took his money, and Nate drove Wes home. Only then did things go downhill.

Jake, who had been pining for deliveries while he was driving, suddenly got overwhelmed. He thought he still had Nate to fall back to, but I told him that Wes had him count his money already. All Jake had was Gary as a driver, with about six runs up. Jake, growing ever more frustrated, counted heads on the inside, exclaimed that Mike and Nat were in charge, and went to help with the deliveries.

I did not like that idea at all. Calls were coming in, most of them deliveries, I had questions I didn't quite know how to answer, and Jake was fucking gone. He went back to his old driving habits, with tires squealing, gravel flying, and breakneck speeds, but that was only because he had to for us.

At some point, I got so frustrated, I was walking to the side door, and then just turned around and punched the wall. It wasn't planned, but it sure the hell did hurt.

I'm just glad that Dewey was there. He had the day requested off, but he came in and helped as if he was on the clock. He slapped pizzas, he topped pizzas, he helped me with the phones. If it weren't for him, I don't know how I would have handled a couple of the questions thrown at me.

When things finally calmed down, we chatted. The guy is going off to the Marines in August. He told me he's nervous, but excited about it at the same time. I can't blame him. Good luck to him. Big kudos.

Around ten-ish, Jake confronted me. He was a little pissed, for obvious reasons. He asked me if I wanted to stay or go. You know me. I can't answer a question very directly. I kinda blathered about it for a bit, but he actually shouted at me, and I answered that I could stay. That's when I had to deal with the shitty part of the night on those phones. When he came back from his last delivery, he told me I could leave. Not much of a goodbye otherwise.

I got into my car, and left.

Instead of going home, I blew right by Dancer and continued on to Lima Center. I took that to Beach, didn't turn left on Dancer because I didn't want to get stuck behind some idiot that didn't know how to go above five miles per hour. So I took Dancer to Trinkle, nearly running over a raccoon running across the road (and would have, too, if I knew where the damn stop sign was). I took Trinkle to Fletcher to Dexter-Chelsea, back to Lima Center. I took Beach to Dancer, this time taking the left, but turned down my music and completely passed by my house. I went back to Classic.

Maybe it was the driving, maybe it was the music, but I felt a lot better when I showed up at work about quarter to eleven. As I pulled in, Jake hung out his window, staring at my car, probably confused to high hell.

I hung around for another half hour or so, kind of ghosting. Eventually, Jake took the garbage out, I followed him and told him I should go home before my mom murdered me. This time he actually did say goodbye, but in his own way: "Stay white, I love ya."

Damn, I love Jake. He's just awesome. He frustrates me sometimes, but I can nearly always count on him in the end.

Jake doesn't work tonight, though. Nor does Tyler, even though they were both supposed to. Damn them. Oh well. Hopefully tonight won't be as bad as the past couple nights.

SONG OF THE DAY: Here Comes the Rain Again ~ Eurythmics