A History of Violence, or
How the Food got Fast
<<in ‘Merica’ today, there are over a hundred continuously successful restaurants,
eateries and questionable establishments in every city or town, that serve
substances that pass for food. the fact that these food dispensaries are opened
everyday and are able to serve food to hungry humans is a tiny miracle. a miracle
that is seldom given much thought and rarely if ever celebrated by the public at
large. i call this a miracle Finnegan, because it takes an awful lot of humans,
animals and plants to make food products available and magically appear in front
of the millions of food consumers. this miracle happens to each human three or
four times a day, in thousands and thousands of locations across this great nation.
even more mind-blowing is the fact that humans provide this food service at
amazingly low wages, and the animals do it for free. or rather at the cost of their
“Notnek and Free Dave are a couple of jack asses man.”, says Hopskotch Sunday.
<<to you, whilst the two of you labor over boiling pots and a burning flat grill>>
<<in the pots are various parts of the three daily specials. (see index for recipes)
potatoes for the mashed potatoes, chicken for the salad, stew stuff for the stuff
stew. you get the picture.>>
“They sure are some sort of animal.”, you agree.
“Mmm Hmm…”, says Hopskotch.
“Aren’t animal acts supposed to make us better people?”, you add brightly.
“No, that’s having an animal. That is supposed to make One a better person. You know,
like a pet dog or cat or goldfish. A companion. Acting like animals is what makes us
‘Merican’.”, says Hopskotch Sunday.
“Having a spectacular amount of soul crushing debt is what makes us ‘Merican’
Hopskotch.”, you say. <<you point with your old metal spatula to increase the
emphasis of your words.>>
<<the chicken sizzles and you take each breast out of the boiling pot and cut it on
the flat top grill. you do this to brown and finish cooking the meat. this technique
take minutes off the cooking time of the meat; and cooking meat takes minutes off
of your life…>>
“Are you still worried about all those lawsuits against Ruben?!”, says Hopskotch. <<he
chops the vegetables for the chicken salad and scrapes them from the cutting board
with the back of his knife into the chicken salad container.>> “I mean, if there was
ever a silver lining to your husband running off; it would definitely be that fact that you
can almost certainly and legally dodge all of the various medical associations that are
pissed at him and hungry for monetary retribution.”, adds Hopskotch.
“What?! Your husband left you Finnegan?”, says one of the newly arrived waitresses.
<<you purposely forget her name.>>
“Jazz, don’t be a bitch.”, says Theta. <<the waitress you remember defends you as she
walks into the kitchen behind the no-name waitress who is picking through the
donuts as she mocks your misfortune.>>
“Don’t pretend that the Boss isn’t upfront mocking the failed lives of the kitchen staff as
per usual.”, continues Theta.
<<Theta becomes less your favorite waitress of the day by adding that as she
returns excess lemons from the dining area to the walk in cooler. Angel joins the
rest of you in the kitchen. she has her white bar towel and a red handled bottle
opener protruding from the back pocket of her skin-tight black jeans.>>
“I think that you should embrace your new found marital and financial freedom
Finnegan. You are a hot young female artist and need more random lovers in your life.
It would be great for your art.”, says Angel. <<Angel smiles coyly as she talks and
takes the bar towel from her pocket and cheerfully snaps it at your rear end and
then at Free Dave’s crotch when he walks through the Black Metal BackDoor.>>
<<Free Dave bent over holding his sore groin, notices two things: one, Notnek
coming back into the kitchen to harass his employees and two, Angel bending over
into the ice machine to scoop out ice into the bar’s ice bucket. Free Dave grabs an
empty cardboard box from the pile beside the ice machine and imitates a real
employee by breaking down the box from this morning’s food stuff delivery. Free
Dave breaks one box down and then another. he sees Notnek talking to Hopskotch
and to you. Free Dave takes Notnek’s momentary employee distraction to take a
piece of ice from the ice machine and slide it down Angel’s backside through a
break between her black shirt and black jeans. Angel immediately raises up feeling
cold ice slide down her ass, bumping her head on the top of the ice machine door.
Free Dave grabs an arm load of boxes and retreats out the Black Metal BackDoor of
the Bucket o’ Blood. Angel cusses at the lazy drunken cook>>
“Prickless piece of shit!”, says Angel.
<<Free Dave giggles to himself. Free Dave carries the broken down cardboard
boxes to the recycling bin in the parking lot. he spies a discarded cigarette on the
ground and relights it and smokes, staring the college kids walking past the Bucket
o’ Blood to their Ticky Tacky University classes.>>
“How far off are those specials Junior? I’ve got a fishing buddy coming by for some
chicken salad to take out to the lake with him. Can you make up a double batch?”, says
Notnek. <<the Boss stands on the Waitress side of the line talking to you as you cook
things on the cook line, with your back to him.>>
“Well if you want the restaurant open at the appointed time that is lovingly painted on
the front door; your fishing buddy is going to have to wait forty five minutes to an hour
for the chicken salad to make itself Boss.”, you say.
<<Finnegan, you completely fail at hiding how much you despise the Boss’s request
in your voice. i believe some folks call that “odium”… but you do offer up a sickly
sweet smile to the Boss over your pretty little shoulder.>>
“Damnit Junior, get that lazy Free Dave back inside and have him make it. Open my
kitchen, dumb ass.”, says Notnek. <<he huffs and puffs and stomps out of the kitchen
like an angry child, instead of an angry dad. Notnek throws a look of menace over
his shoulder at you during his departure.>>
<<while Notnek’s people skills are severely lacking in tact, they are however
effective in getting his employees to accomplish…if not the impossible, than the
highly unlikely. in just under two hours, five persons under his employment and
under the influence of all manner of things, cleaned and restocked kitchens, bar
rooms, bathrooms, and dining areas; along with creating multiple specials to open a
restaurant known to the residents of Normal Towne as the Bucket o’ Blood.>>