porkyandthemob

He trudged to the bus stop – Sam did not want to go to work.  He was dreading the all too real assignment of wearing the Porky uniform.  Everyone did it.  They did it for three weeks, never to do it again, or they did it till they quit.  Lately business was good; this dirty, greasy restaurant was hitting it big.  No one could explain it.  The boss was hiring left and right.  Waiters, servers, greeters, cooks, bus boys, bathroom attendants were all there.  He even hired bouncers – who knows why a dirty want-to-be-authentic-Mexican restaurant needed them.  The owner had a theory that if a person could wear that hideous suit for three weeks straight they were worth keeping.  Sam didn’t have a choice.