A Whopper of a Tale

How did I become the working class hero I am today? Glad you asked!

It all started when I was 18 years old and had moved from India to Jersey a little less than a year earlier. Due to my stellar school attendance throughout 11th and 12th grade , I had been “grounded” for about a year straight. I figured a job was a good excuse to get out of the house and I’d make some dough too. I summoned all my wisdom and decided that out of the 30 to 40 different places I could work in walking distance of my house, I wanted to work at Burger King. This is how dumb I was at the time. I probably figured that I’d get free burgers, but I didn’t. And I didn’t get any fries either. The manager, your ubiquitous slightly balding blonde haired middle-aged white guy interviewed me and then told me I had secured a  job with America’s favorite flamebroiler. I was PUMPED. He tells me he will call me with my schedule. Never calls. I call him, no answer. I go in there a few days later, I see him at the counter, walk up to him and he says to me just like he’s seen me for the first time “May I take your order?”  I sized up the situation and said to him “Bacon cheeseburger.”

And so ended my career in the restaurant business.

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