Take This Job...

         What the devil was I thinking?  Johnny Paycheck is an idiot and I’m a bigger one for having listened.  Why did I tell Mr. Halverson to take his job and shove it?  Because he’s the biggest idiot of all, that’s why.  Oh what was I thinking?  Was it the PMS or just the fight I had with Mick?  Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly when I did this… but for a whole month?  I wasn’t thinking for a whole month?  I had a good job… a steady job… working my way toward senior accountant in the firm… and then Halverson came over.  Oh my heaven, what was I thinking!?  I can’t run a bakery!  Well, I can, but really, what was I thinking? 

         Sara Williams felt her heart pounding in her chest and her entire body shaking.  She ran a hand through her short blond hair and closed her pale blue eyes as she swallowed over the lump of abject terror in her throat.  The same questions had run through her mind since that fateful day when her boss, Ernie Halverson had come to her once again asking her to give up her weekend to fix his harebrained mistakes.  How he’d gotten to senior level she had no clue but five weekends in a row he’d come to her.  She’d been tired from fighting most of the night with her ex-boyfriend, Mick and pushing a severe case of PMS when Halverson had shown up that last time.  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sara had lost it completely.  She’d ranted and raved for ten minutes before finishing her diatribe with, ‘Halverson… you can take this job and shove it!’ just like in the Johnny Paycheck song that her father had listened to when she was a kid.

         The reality of what she’d done hadn’t hit her for a whole week, by which time Sara had somehow managed to secure a small business loan, premises, a business license, and equipment to start her dream bakery.  She’d been watching the sign company raising the green neon sign that read Shamrock Bakery when it had hit.  The force of her insanity had nearly dropped her right there in the parking lot. 

         Now, here she was, a month after having had her major brain-to-mouth filter malfunction preparing to open the bakery for the first time.  The counters shone, the small tables in the dining area were neatly arranged, the baked goods were all fresh and ready, and the espresso machine set for its inaugural coffee and Sara was ready to pass out.

         She had gone to every business in the surrounding area handing out samples and introducing herself for the last week and now D-day was here.  With trembling hands and a pounding heart, Sara unlocked the front door and flipped the lights on.

         Ten minutes later, the bell on the door rang and Sara met her first customer at the counter.  She recognized the woman from the office next door and smiled.

         “We could smell your stuff all morning and we finally cracked,” the woman grinned sheepishly.

         Sara took her order for coffees and treats for the six women who worked in the medical billing office, washed her hands and somehow managed to fill the order through her nerves and doubts.  As she finished packing everything up, the bell tinkled again and the grey haired doctor who neighbored her on the other side of the strip mall smiled at her.

         From that point on, Sara had a slow but steady stream of customers, most of whom she’d given samples to, until with a shock of realization, she noticed the time on the clock that hung on the far wall.  It was half an hour past the posted closing time!  Whoa, how had that happened?  It seemed like mere minutes had passed since she’d been freaking out about her jaunt down I’m-crazy-as-a-loon lane.  Sara finished serving her last customer and followed the motherly woman to the door, locking it behind her then flipping the overhead lights off.  She walked back behind the counter and took the drawer from the til. 

         Sara went into the tiny little office in the back of the kitchen and put the drawer on the desk.  As she sat down in the chair for the first time that day, she noticed that her feet hurt and her back was aching.  Who knew that working in a bakery caused these pains?  She counted the til and a slow smile blossomed on her pale face as she thought…. Why the devil didn’t I do this sooner?  I can do this.  Thank you Johnny Paycheck!





775 Words