Would you like fries with that?

When you work the late shift and your alarm goes off at 4:00pm, it still feels early. I shuffle to the kitchen in underwear and slippers to open the fridge. The bright LEDs are jarring even with the sun high in the sky. I look for milk but I know there isn't any. Stupid.

I don't know why I even drink coffee at home before I got to work at McDonalds. The coffee at home is worse than the coffee at work. I guess if my breath smells like coffee beans before I get there they won't notice what other smells I might be giving off. I used to wash my shirt every day to get rid of the fry grease. Now I don't.

At work it's quiet and I'm manning multiple stations because Gio called in sick again. He's not sick. The front counter is sticky but I'll just leave it until later. Like maybe when I'm bored at 1:00 am.

It's only 10:00 pm. The movies across the way get out and I expect people to come in. Aren't you hungry after eating all that popcorn in the dark? Aren't you thirsty from all that sugary soda that you need a milkshake? Stupid.

A young couple comes in, hanging all over each other. Her arms are around his neck, and his around her waist and they walk side by side attached at the hip. They obviously had their hands in each other's pants during the whole movie and now they wanted to do it here too. Gross. I walked up to the sticky counter. "Welcome to McDonalds. Can I take your order?"

"Uh, yeah," the boy said. The girl had her nose against his face smiling at him as he looked at the menu board. "Does the cheeseburger come with cheese on it?" Stupid.

"Yes. It's a cheese burger."

"She's lactose intolerant. Can't have cheese." He snuck a quick kiss to her.

"We have a burger without cheese."

"You want a burger?" He asked her. The girl shook her head.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Okay. We'll have a hot fudge sundae," he grinned at me.

"Ice cream has dairy in it," I said. Stupid.

"Yeah, so?" the boy said. The girl whispered in his ear, giggling. "Oh, and two spoons."

I looked over at the self-service station where the napkins, plasticware, and straws were. Stupid.

"Okay," I said, punching in the order on the kiosk screen. "One hot fudge sundae. That will be $1.34."

"I thought everything on the dollar menu was a dollar."

"It is. The hot fudge sundae is not on the dollar menu." Stupid.

"Oh. Well I only have a dollar."

I know the menu, so I say. "Do you want an ice cream cone instead? It is on the dollar menu."

"Ya," he says. "But can you put it in one of those little plastic cups and add hot fudge?"

"Hot fudge is extra. It wouldn't be a dollar."

"Ya. I want the dollar ice cream cone but I don't want the cone. Instead I want hot fudge."

"That's not how it works," I say. "You can get the ice cream cone for a dollar plus tax, or you can get the hot fudge sundae for $1.29 plus tax."

"Fine. I'll splurge and get the hot fudge sundae."

"Ok. That will be $1.34."

"And two spoons."

Stupid.