I discovered his tricky plan. So I would go around and look in spots for the cash. Not cleaning a damn thing just grabbing the cash. I snatched about thirty two dollars before he ceased his ridiculous activity.

He was a round fellow, like Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dum, take your pick. Bald and short. He had a hideous wife who towered over him, and was completely nasty to everyone. I never saw her smile. She looked like she lived under a bridge snagging baby goats to eat as they passed overhead. And he was always smiling fakely, and putting forth ingenuous hospitality. He was one of these, the customer is always right, bullshit posturers. He actually seemed to like licking the crack of every customer that walked on in and stuck their ass in his face. Is there nothing sadder than a general manager of a mediocre restaurant with a complex of overimportance?

So one day it was busier than normal and I had a crunch at the register. Line of people fifteen deep, take out and customers who had finished dining in. So the anxious shiny head monkey stepped in to "help" out.

As he sidled up next to me to handle credit card peeps he stepped on my foot. And while he was short, he was also squat and thick. I could feel the nail on my big toe dig into the meat. I of course screamed out "Dammit, your on my toe." He looks at me, gives me one of those insipid wide smiles, and laughs to make the customers think we are having a little friendly banter. Still standing on my foot mind you. So I push him off of me roughly. He had to grab onto the counter so as to not fall down. Turn off my register, take the key, and limp towards the office. He of course runs after me and grabs my arm. I don't let him get a word in. I say, loud enough for the now captive audience of customers to hear, "Let go of me dick head, you fucking busted my toe, and then you laugh at it like it was a joke, take care of those assholes out there if you want to but I'm going home." And I go off to tend to my banged up digit. Which was all cut up and bloody.

He didn't have anything to say as I left or the next day when I showed up for work. From then on he never tried to offer any assistance at the register either.

Always remember, you are not as important as you think you are, and the minute you start thinking that you are you look like a fool that no one respects. Especially if your a manager at an eatery where the staff gets paid dick, the food is edible but not spectacular, and half the clientel are coupon clipping nit picking jerk offs that fill their lives with complaining about edible reasonably priced food served and prepared by a underpaid staff. Its so sad when a speck thinks its a spot.