Stories Of The F.D. Cafe

Edward and I work at the F.D Cafe. I'm not sure that cafe is the proper term; it seems almost too classy. During our time working at the afe, we have found ourselves in the most awkward positions. Every night there is a new adventure.

One night Edward and i were sitting at the register discussing an upcoming 20-page paper for our english class, when we heard the office door open. Out come our manager ,Nicky. She began her usual, "Hum clean this, Hun clean that!" She is constantly using the word "Hun" We couldnt figure out whether she ment it as a term of endearment or was it the just the only thing she could think of to say for the moment. Either way, everyone, especially Edward, felt awkward. Suddenly she started walking directly towards us. Hiding obviously wasnt an option, so we stood in place, ready to take the hit. "Go do go backs, Hun. And do them good," she commanded us. She smiled as she wlaked away but I cant say I wanted to smile back. Edward gave her a confrontational hand gesture. We laughed for a second, until we turned and saw the buggy pilled full og "go backs".

"Go backs" are one of the worst jobs at the F.D Cafe. You never know what will be in the buggy. We began putting items back on the shelf, but towards the end of our task we found ourselves with a bag full os a hard, white, chalky substance. Edward looked at me and and said "Where does this go?" I replied with a short answer of, "I dont know." We stood in silence for a moment staring first at the bag, and then to each other. We searched the frozen food section to the salted meat and pickled eggs. We were mystified. We had this weird substance on our hands and had no idea what to do with it, so we did what everyone would have done. We took the substance to the back, ripped a hole in it, and put it in the damaged "goods" pile.
The next day at work was the same as usual, a rude customer here and a screaming baby there. In one moment our day went from normal to life-changing. An old lady, without any teeth but long hair peeking out the top of her shirt, came through our line. In here hands were a tamato, vienna sausage, canned oysters, and a bag of the mysterious substance.

Edward shot me a sharp glance and quickly put his head down. I watched almost in slow motion as he raised his head and asked, "Excuse me ma'am, what is it and what do you do with it?" By then, he was holding the bag in his hand. she loked shocked and replied "Its called White Dirt, and you eat it baby." Puzzled and confused, I gave her the change. He and I thought about what happned last night and we rushed to the back of the cafe. We found the bag sitting in the same spot. Edward and I exchanged no words, and broke two seemingly tiny pieces into our hands. With a quick, "1,2,3, go!" We put the "White Dirt in our mouths and chewed. Our reactions were similar. It was discusting. Chalky and dry. I ran to the bathroom and tried to drink water. I found that only increasedthe nastiness of the item. It turned to clay on my tongue. Edward spit it out and spit and spit and spit. He just kept spitting all night, imaginin he could he still taste the awful substance.

After that night Edward and I vowed that we wouldnt try anything else from thr F.D Cafe.