I Was The Burger King

I worked at a Burger King in Pasco WA for three years, putting myself through community college. I started out running the broiler (yes, those burgers ARE 'flame broiled') and worked up to production leader (running the kitchen) and part-time assistant manager. When not performing in shows at the college, I would go to school full time and work 37-39 hours a week (under the 'full time' limit). When I left, I was their highest-paid employee; at $3.58 an hour.

Remember Michael J. Fox's brother in 'Back to the Future'? The Burger King uniform he wore? That's the one I had; a red fake corduroy vest with attached plaid sleeves, a yellow collar, and red pants. When coming home, I peeled it off and washed it in the hottest water possible.

It was a dirty, greasy job that paid crap, but it gave me the flexibility I needed to go to school and do shows. Plus people liked to work on my shifts; I was a good boss. This means I respected the crew and let them do their jobs. You would be surprised how oddly effective that can be...

After the crew was gone, the doors were locked and the restaurant was quiet. I would sit in the darkened dining room, do my paperwork with a hot chocolate and watch the traffic go by on Court St. I would usually finish around midnight to 1 am. As I managed on weekends, I didn't have to get up early the next day. There was no one waiting for me, so I wasn't in a hurry. I would then lock the doors, walk across Court St, through the car wash, hop the fence and I was home. On nights that the teens ruled the car wash, I walked around it.

I started off wearing the old ‘70s BK uniforms, but soon we switched to the ‘80s ones with the fake corduroy vest and yellow, red and orange plaid. It was polyester and hot, sticky and miserable. It goes for bucks on eBay though.

I was at the mighty BK until the day I left for Seattle, having been accepted to The Cornish College of the Arts in Seattle. The restaurant was a place full of desperate characters, fun people, oddballs, and a few that seemed to have a chip on their shoulder big as the decorative boulder that sat by the parking lot entrance. Oh, and sex, there seemed to be a lot of sex going on, or so I was told. I remember a lot of people who would be super friendly to each other for weeks or a few months at a time, and then… they couldn’t be on the same shifts together. One manager told me she could write a soap opera based around a fast-food restaurant. This, I did not doubt.

Okay, to be honest, during a few months there I was one of those that had to be shifted, from day to night, mostly because I had started community college, but part of it was to escape a relationship that had gone bad… really bad.

I have never been particularly smart about women, meaning if they hit on me I would just write it off as them being ‘nice’ to me. I mean, who would be interested in dating me, right? They would get frustrated and after a while, they just moved on.

It was usually a long time between girlfriends.

But Connie was persistent until I finally caught on. She actually had to just grab and kiss me before I figured it all out. She worked the front counter, I worked the line in the back as ‘Production Leader’ (basically kitchen manager). She would tell me she liked my singing (yes, I would sing to myself as I worked), how handsome I looked in my BK uniform (really?), and would hang around until I was off, so she could walk home with me. See? Totally clueless.

But, she kissed me, I figured it out and we dated for about 6 months. She was upset when I told her I was starting school and would have to shift to the night crew, she feared me meeting ‘college girls’. Didn’t she remember I was clueless? We started growing apart, not on my side, but on hers. She was annoyed I didn’t have a car like previous boyfriends, that I was either working, at school, or performing in shows, and I was pretty much always broke. Well. I was a poor college student, but at least I had my own place, she did like that.

It came to a head around New Year’s Eve. I had to work as I was in charge of the kitchen, and she was really pissed. She stopped by with a group of fellow BK’ers and was kinda snotty to me, and then headed off with the crew to a planned party. I finished my shift and went home, took a shower, and went to bed.

And then got up.

I felt really bad about Connie and missing the party. At 2 am, I walked over to her apartment house (she lived with her family) and did the cliche of throwing pebbles at her window. It started to rain, a little at first, then a downpour. She answered sleepy and with a bit of justified annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“Happy New Year! I came to see you!”

“It’s like, 2 am!”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there at the party tonight.”

“Whatever’s more important to you. Go home.”

“Connie, all I can offer you is myself and my love. That’s all I have.”

(I swear on a stack of Whoppers (TM) I said this exact corny sentence)

“I don’t care, go home.”

She shut the window. I was shocked, and by now, soaked. I walked the ten or so blocks back home, crying all the way. I was just broken. I was under a hell of a lot of stress, working nearly full time, going to school full time, and rehearsing and doing shows in between. It all just fell on me, standing under Connie’s window, rain seeping into my skin, being rejected in the most casual manner. I considered it over and cruelly. Later I discovered she’d been making out with what would be her next boyfriend at that party I missed.

Of course, I would have to see her around. Turns out I was more popular with the staff than she was, and as word got out, Connie’s popularity fell hard. Yes, I did take pitiful solace in this because I was young, she was only my second girlfriend, and I was (am) human. Connie left Burger King a month or so later, moving on to McDonald’s I think. I never saw her again after that.

I did hear she broke up with the new boyfriend. He was way too horny she complained to her friends.

Like the manager said, a soap opera. There was a new one starting every other day, if you missed one drama, stand by, there’s be another one coming in a few minutes. I know, I was there another two years or so until my audition got me into an acting program and I left town.

The day I quit Burger King to move to Seattle, I ripped my uniform shirt off (it was actually a pullover with fake buttons so that wasn't easy) threw it on the ground next to the dumpster, and set it on fire. It didn't burn, it just melted into a lump.

It is late now, quiet, dark, a Diet Pepsi is in place of cocoa, an old Mac book instead of a stack of balance sheets and schedules. Law and Order stands in for Court St. traffic. I type this post instead of figuring out why till #3 is $1.50 off. Things change, furniture moves around, years leave scars but I still love the night, still am up too late, still staring into the darkness.

I have given up tearing off my clothes and burning them though.