It was soooo hot today, I just wanted to go somewhere to sit and be in A/C without feeling pressed to pay my bill and then get off my seat to make room for others to sit. So I finally decided to step into what was Pizza Hut now Falafal House to try it out.
I used to work here when it was Pizza Hut and it was a take out and delivery place only. I had wanted to be hired to make pizza because I thought it would be fun. Well, I was having so much fun that I wasn't very fast. I took joy in spreading the sauce on like paint on canvas and sprinkling the cheese on just right. I took a greater joy in putting each piece of the topping on in particular designs of my mood for the moment. I was too slow, the manager thought. But they did hire me, at 16 I was placed in the coveted job of answering the phone, taking order and money. Although I had the job that everyone wanted, I actually wanted everyone else's job. There were rumblings of resentment from other workers who had been there for months and had plenty of experience and felt they should have been promoted to the phone. The manager was aware of the disgruntle opinions of the staff and made it to be known and clear publicly that it would only take me, one person to be on the phone instead of having 3 people on the phone. I was so new to work force, I had no idea what that all meant, I was happy to be at a job and getting paid and looking forward to making my own personal pan pizza everyday for break and decorating the toppings in the fashion of smilie face or whatever I was in the mood for. It was then that I developed a lack of interest for pizza because I smelled it and ate it everyday. It was then that I developed a habit of not wanting to carry the smell of food in my clothes. It was then that my sense of smell had a loud voice.
