It was the autumn of 1994. I had just turned 16 the spring before and thought that I needed to get a job. Of course, being a minor that could only work part-time, there weren't a lot of jobs available for me, so I opted to work at a local fast food restaurant.

Let me give a little background of this particular restaurant I worked at. First of all, it's a fast food restaurant that sells fish - not the most popular place in town. Second, every damn thing was deep fried. So, not only would I come home smelling like fish every night, but I reeked of vegetable oil too. Lastly, this was the only damn restaurant that didn't have a single good looking female working there. The only chicks that worked there were fat ones (with a few exceptions). The kind of chick that when she wore a red shirt, you expected her to come busting through the wall and have a bunch of kids yell, "Kool-Aid!".

Anyway, I started as a cook. They might as well ask you to roll around in grease all day and serve up pieces of shit, because that's about all you do. Well, I being a bright you lad, quickly rose to the rank of "Team Leader". "Team Leader?", you ask. It was all part of their brilliant scheme to make you feel like part of a team. Basically, you were still a cook, but you also had all the responsibilities of a manager.

Well, being a manager, you quickly get a handle on how many people in this world are retarded. I estimate the figure somewhere at around 90%. Here's some of the shit I would hear:

Customer: Do you have any meals that don't come with fish?
Me (In my head): No! If you didn't want fish, why the hell did you come to a fish restaurant?

Customer: I want some shrimps and pink lemonade.
Me (In my head): Shrimps? Damn porch monkey. Get the fuck out of my store!

Customer: What do you mean your closed? I've been waiting at the speaker for 10 minutes!
Me (In my head): Why the fuck would you wait at the speaker for 10 minutes at a restaurant that had all their lights off? Get the hell out of my drive through before I punch you in the mouth.

Customer: Your toilet is plugged.
Me (In my head): What the hell did you put in it crack head? Now there's gonna be shit all over the place and I'm going to have to call the plumber.

You see what I mean? A large percentage of the population must be retarded. Anyway, to make a long story short. I worked there for five long years before I was finally able to get out of that hell-hole.

On a scale of 1-5 asses, I would have to give this a 4/4.5. The only reason I'm not giving this an all-out 5 is because I really don't have anything to compare it to. I went straight from that job to a cushy computer support job.