You run to the fry line. Two of the line cooks are wrestling a fry cook to the ground, away from the bubbling fat. He has a heavy spoon in his hand and is trying to hit them with it. You wrestle the spoon away, and they drag him off to the back. You hear one of them mutter, “I said we shouldn’t have made him put six cthalamari down at once…”
After a while, the big line cook comes back and thanks you for your help. “You want his job?” he asks. “Pays five dollars more an hour.”
“Get me an apron,” you say.