My little job

The dark and cruel place I call work, has many jobs that can leave a worker petrified of fast food. Furthermore why do we call it fast food? Only to realize that we can make more time in our day? So we can return to the internet or possibly watch our favorite television shows, on the couch we sit in every day. So why do we still satisfy ourselves with hamburgers made by a fry cook who hates his job and wishes he could alter his past so he could have a better lifestyle? Or is it because we are lazy and feel the need to have others do everything for us as much as possible?

So as I slowly enter the freezing cold room, barely lit bye overhead lights, that become visible as the door slowly creaks open, giving the room a feeling as if it was a mid evil, underground cave light bye torches. I am armed with a blade that is 5’x3’. As I slowly make my way to the floor to start my task, the overseer gives me my instructions and closes the door behind me leaving me alone in the freezing room. Where my breath becomes visible and nearly turns into frost that sticks to the walls. As I finally reach the floor I can instantly feel the cold crawl up my legs and into my back. So I pull out my blade and slowly start chipping away at the ice, just as my overseer commanded me to do. As the ice pieces fly past my head I notice the pain of the cold kissing my ears making them sting as if they never knew what warm ever was. During the fight of me against the ice as it was almost chipped away it seemed to hold on tight and resist my judgment of its existence. The more it was hit the more it clenched on tighter, as if it was grasping on its final moments of life. But with one precise hit the ice lost all hope as it was forced off the ground, flying into the wall and shattering into countless pieces. As I turned around I grabbed the broom behind me and cleaned up the scattered pieces of ice and slowly headed out the door and as I left I looked over my shoulder and saw what use to be a ice covered floor now shine with metallic glory, as if its life had been replenished just as the door closed. Soon after I exited the cold version of hell I transfer in to a blast of heat from the deep fryers and grill. I am greeted by a lady whose ego makes up for her height. The sight of her frightens me because as I exit the freezer she says “Jamie there’s yet another job for you”. The sound of my name being used is as if my days only begun. I quickly react by thinking what’s worse than what I have just done could this next job be easier or could it create the downfall of my career, but just as I am about to be assigned this horrible task I am saved by the end of the day only to return again and face this fear.