“Get down from there right this second, you headache of a person!” Yelled a voice that I recognized as my boss’s.

“I’m sorry!” I say, scurrying down from the ladder as fast as I possibly can.

“What on earth we’re you doing up there?” He asks me, his arms crossed.

“I- I was just looking for the chicken to put in the soup…” Suddenly the floor became very interesting, and I couldn’t look up at my disappointed boss.

“My goodness, Mr.Clark, you are really something.”

“I’m not fired, am I?”

He laughs. “Fired? Of course not! You’re the only person with the self-respect to work at this junky restaurant!”

“Oh shush, I can’t find any better work! You know how things are these days.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not complaining though. I wouldn’t be able to keep this junkyard open without ya.”

“I guess,” I shrug, indifferent to his flattery. He just does it to get me to work harder.