March 25, 2020 12:21 AM EDT
And here I am. Age 30, nothing to show for it, and sitting midday in a fucking waffle house. *Hey, watch your mouth. This is a sacred place. * Said my boss, and reaper Miss Geroga Lass. Geroga is the leader of The Waffle Warriors. After two of her seniors were promoted she became group manager.
The Waffle House is a sacred place? I asked Ms Lass. Yes it is, and can you stop calling it The Waffle House, It’s name is Der Waffle House*. Completely different, and it’s own entity. Respect the difference. Geroga in a continued annoyed fashion. To be fair I have it coming, and she isn’t at fault for being angry.
You see everyone in the group of Wafflers has a category of reaps they are responsible for. Years ago it used to be that you would get a random name with a time, and address written on a sticky note. But with the push of technology, and ability of instant information: we just get a text on our company phones.
I handle the: Unmentionables. These are the kinds of reaps which people are embarrassed about. It’s usually the people who experiment with some off colour fetish, or someone left on a toilet; not the most glamourous of jobs. Ms Lass says it’s because I’m the new peanut, so I have to start at the bottom.
Needless to say I was less than happy to start my new career. For my first reap I was supposed to get some sleazy restaurant owner who enjoyed recording his employees during their bathroom breaks. Even without me there karma got to him. He ended up getting stabbed by one of the cooks who was dating a waitress. This caused the restaurant to close, which caused people unable to eat there obviously, which lead to the competing restaurant to gain the majority of people in town who want to eat at a high level place, which lead to the cooks being overworked, which lead to a bottle of draino being accidently spilled in a soup vat, which lead to over 100+ people either getting sick, or dying, which lead to where we are now: Over time for everyone at Dier Waffle House.
Ms Lass says because I didn’t go to collect my reap, the universe did it for me, and added a little kick to the karma. More than likely the restaurant owner was going to die from a heart attack on his toilet while touching himself, but because I wasn’t where I needed to be: This is the current situation. Even the Wraiths are pissed at me; They have to put in overtime too. From time to time I’ll have something explode, drop, or shatter near me. Ms Lass says it will end when everything equals out