Pizza Mat
“I can’t turn water into wine, but I can turn pizza into breakfast.”
“I can’t turn water into wine, but I can turn pizza into breakfast.”
“Alright, I need you two here to clean up this mess on the double,” Coach Tony says as he throws the horse stall mats on the floors of the Pizza Hut chain where me and my brother work in the middle of East Bumble Fuck.
“I know you work part-time, Barry, and uh… what’s your name?”
“Buster,” my brother says.
“Ah, that’s right, that’s right! You two are gonna have to do it. Jose’s wife just had a baby so I’m countin’ on you two to step up.
“I know you kids work part-time at the races but I really need this done yesterday. Maybe if you could just use some of the spraying agents that you use for the mats here in the back where you make the pizza that might work. See if it works and text me when you’re done. I’ll swing by and pick ’em up. If you want a permanent job as stall boys then show what you’re made of. Thanks, kids,” he said leaving from the back.
“Who was that?” my boss asks and comes in with a broom in her black and red uniform. “And why are their poopy mats on my clean kitchen floor?” She screams in shock.
“Oh, that was Coach Tony, ma’am,” I say trying to calm her down. “He needs these stall mats cleaned before tomorrow. He’s our boss from our second job.”
“I don’t care if he’s the God Almighty, He ain’t gonna come around here demandin’ orders from my employees on company time. Now get cleanin’.” She says handing us the broom and mop buckets to clean the floors.
“What about the mats, ma’am,” Buster asks.
“Leave ‘em! Just… can you guys pull the pizza out of the oven? I think they’re burnin’.” Our shift is understaffed and we’re the only new employees. We’re in high school as this is my second job and Buster’s first. We hate it here and want to work for Coach Tony but our parents hate us working at the races. They say it’s bad luck and God doesn’t want us gambling. Even if it means paying for college.
But we decide to keep working at the races faithfully in order to gain the respect and trust of Coach Tony. We dream of being jockeys one day.
“Get the pizza out of the oven, Buster,” I say as Buster looks scared.
“I don’t know, Barry. I don’t wanna spill it.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine,” I say. “You’ve seen Mom do it a million times. Just take that pizza thingy, slide it inside the oven, and pull out the pizza. Easy. I’ll clean these mats.”
Quickly, he runs to the oven, gets the pizza grabber (I guess you call it that), and stands on his tiptoes. I begin to move the poopy mats, but then the boss calls.
“One of you! I need one of you to get up here ASAP!” she yells sternly. I quickly go up and see a line out the door. I don’t get why people love Pizza Hut so much. It’s like eating cardboard.
A man waits for his order and stamps his foot impatiently.
I stumble to the cash register. “I can help who’s next!”
“When’s my order gonna be done,” the man asks raising his arms. “I’ve been waiting a half hour now. I ordered it this morning.”
I hear a crash. Pots clang to the floor and a bowl makes an endless ringing sound like it’s twirling on the sides.
Boss looks at me. Then eyes me to see what the hell just happened.
I run back and see the pizza that landed right on top of the horse stall mats.
Dammit. “What the hell,” I say to Buster.
“I told you I wasn’t ready,” he says whispering. “What’re we gonna do?”
I look back and boss shouts, “What’s the hold-up?”
“Be right there. Everything’s fine,” I say. “Grab that pizza and put it in this box.” I get a box from the top shelf and Buster pulls it up as the melted cheese all slops back down onto the poopy mats. Buster lifts the round crusty bread with red sauce and plops it down into the box as I quickly close it tapeing it shut so the man can’t open it and see inside.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I say to Buster as I bring it up and hand the man the box. “There you go, sir.”
“Finally,” he says. “Thanks, kid.” He walks out the front. The line isn’t getting any shorter. People moan and roll their eyes. My boss grabs an order and gives it to me. I don’t understand why she trusts me.
“Two large Pepperoni. One, extra cheese. On the double,” she says. “Next!”
I go back as Buster slips in the greasy cheese. It’s on his shoes and his legs are in the air as he slips all around and stomps on the black mats. He tries to stand and holds on to the side of the table leg.
“What’re you doing?” I whisper. I help him up as he is covered in sauce and yellow cheese. “Wash yourself up and clean up this mess.”
“But-”
“No buts, come on,” I say sending him to the bathroom. The mats are all covered as I groan in anxiety. I make the pizza in a flash and stick them in quickly. I start to clean up the greasy mess but as I do Coach Tony stands in the doorway and looks down at his mats.
“I forgot my phone,” he says picking it up from the counter. He is speechless as he stares at the cheesy chaos.
I begin, “Coach, I, I can explain.”
“No need to. Cheesy sauce right on top of my new horse stall mats!” he says loudly. “That’s genius! Who would have thought that grease from cheese pizza could cut out the grime from stall mats? It’s brilliant!” He laughs.
I am in shock as Buster comes out of the bathroom and stands still.
“Who thought of this,” Tony asks.
I look at Buster as he doesn’t know what happened. “Well, Coach, to tell you the truth it was all Buster over here.”
“Well done, son,” he says shaking his hand. “I’ll take this and tell the others! Forget this place, boys! I want you two to show up bright and early tomorrow morning. You two have a job!” He drags out the two mats and puts them in his trunk closing the door.
Then my boss walks in and asks confused. “Why is there sauce on the floor?”
Buster and I look at each other and smile. I say, “Boss, we have something to tell you.”
Written for Smillew Rahcuef’s prompt:
Coach Tony’s Prompt of the Month: Horse Stall Mats
Get off your high horse (stall mats)medium.com