Orders

It was too late.

I came off the N train at 745 AM.

Enough time to buy breakfast but not to eat it.

I walk into Blimpies and order my usual

A western omelet on a roll with jalapenos

When I eat at home, I always have a bottle of hot sauce on the table

I cannot understand someone NOT liking it.

I rush to the concierge desk and there are already a line of people waiting.

I’m too late.

I’m supposed to open the desk at 8Am

Orders.

The air conditioning in the hotel I work in is not functioning properly

The thermostat says it’s 91 degrees.

The front desk manager speaks with a lisp in an effeminate Brazilian accent.

I take off my suit jacket, the front desk manager tells me that his General Manager has instructed him to tell me to put it back on.

I put it back on.

I get a chair from the bar to sit on.

The front desk manager comes over to tell me that his General Manager has instructed him to tell me that there is no sitting at the front desk.

I tell him that this isn’t the front desk, it’s the concierge desk; I tell him that this is an inhumane work environment. He says that it’s not him.

It’s orders.

I quit my job and begin working for a bookie.

I learn the ropes; how to intimidate without getting physical, how and when to get physical; most of all how to use psychology to get a degenerate gambler scared enough  to pay.

My new boss tells me I’m the only one he trusts

It’s good, honest work.

I go to see a debtor with the intention to collect

A young, effeminate white Brazilian man opens the door to the apartment.

It’s the front desk manager.

Orders.

 

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