Prompt
Today’s prompt I didn’t completely follow but I started to. I wanted to write a lot of set up because I liked the idea I had. Not everything I wanted to get in it was completed but without further delay lets get to the actual prompt.
Part One
Write a day in the life of someone who works in a burger joint.
Part Two
Write an hour in the life of someone who works in a burger joint.
Part Three
Write a minute in the life of someone who works in a burger joint.
Burger Joint Wizard
Stan was the burger joint wizard. By day he slaved away behind the grill of his New York diner and by night he fought the forces of evil with his magickal abilities. If you had asked him a year ago though, he would have been plain old Stan who ran Stan’s Diner. His burgers were good, not great, but good. His milkshakes were nothing special but they weren’t bad. His fries were okay, better with added salt, but edible without. With combination of regular food he was able to make an okay living. Money was not what got him in to using his supernatural abilities.
When the war against the Argon rose to its peak he still didn’t use his powers. He was comfortable in his little diner. Not many people even knew his power existed so he was left alone to flip patties and yell order up. Stan only let one other person cook, Frat, a boy he had taught thoroughly, so the joint required him to be there constantly.
The disappearances weren’t even what got him into using his abilities. Two months ago people with power started disappearing. More and more over New York and the regular people, which at this point Stan consider himself one of, were even starting to notice. Occasionally a body would turn up but it was barely recognizable and was quite rare.
Stan new without a doubt these disappearances weren’t due to normal causes but he didn’t care. He was content in his little diner serving his mediocre food. When his regular patrons started to go missing, instead of using his abilities to defend his diner Stan used his power to fortify his little diner against evil.
He hadn’t thought about the downsides of his fortifications carved into the wood of the doorframes and windows though. Painstaking detail was put into the carvings to make them look decorative but that didn’t fool his supernatural customers. Soon word spread that Stan’s Diner was a safe haven for all those supernatural and good. At first Stan’s business doubled, then tripled. Eventually he had Frat working double shifts alongside him just to make enough food.
This is what got him into the battle against the Argon. His patrons that he cared deeply for. Every day he would spend business hours flipping patties, toasting buns, adding condiments, and plopping them on plates. Order up he would then yell and the plate would disappear into the front end of the diner. Then when the diner closed Stan would go out and investigate. Plodding flat footed through the city of New York.
After hours of investigation Stan would go home and fall asleep, completely pooped. The next day he would get right back up and do it all over again. Weekends had become even busier and now required his attention at the diner during business hours. That meant less time to sleep if he were going to have enough time to run his investigations.
On average his hours at the diner went by pretty quickly and pretty uniformly. Order after order would come in and he would make them ready as quickly as possible. Stan was good at what he did for he had been doing it for years but Frat had only been doing it for a couple and without a doubt the two would constantly be bumping into each other but never did they let the food fall. And always there was an apology, sometimes even from Stan.
These hours he loved, for Frat was a good person to share the kitchen with. Frat was an Oblesque, or magick reader. He could see who had supernatural blood and usually what their abilities were. Without thinking about it he could see the writings of magick highlighted and three dimensional wherever they stood. In other words Stan liked Frat because he didn’t have to hide from Frat and when Frat was around he didn’t have to worry about something magickal sneaking up on him. Frat was also companionable, he was easy to talk to and friendly.
Just because Stan liked his hours uniformed and busy didn’t mean he didn’t like his minutes off here and there when lulls in the orders formed. Stan would walk into the corner of the kitchen pick up a book that detailed some form of dark magick and read it thoroughly for whatever time he had. Usually only a minute. These books he read were not for practice but to identify what was causing these disappearances.
Seconds would tick by and he would flip pages until he found something that was remotely relevant. He would then read it, decide it wasn’t what he was looking for, and flip the page again. This process repeated itself until he had to rejoin Frat at the grill. This was how Stan spent his minutes, his hours, his days, for a month.