The Chili Bowl

Eddie closed and locked the door of the small chili shop at nine thirty, a half an hour before he and Michelle were supposed to as the restaurant officially closed at ten, but business had been slow and the two of them had plans after work.

“What if Bob calls?” Eddie asked his co-worker, a blonde waif of a chick with a pierced nose and dubious sexual preference.

“Screw him. We’ll hang around until ten and then we’ll split. At least we’ll have the floor mopped and everything all set to go. All we’ll have to do is turn off the lights.”

“And what if a customer comes to the door?”

“We’ll tell them we had to close early. Geez, what the hell is the matter with you?”

Eddie was a worrier, that’s what his problem was. Even though he knew this job wasn’t exactly a career stepping stone he still liked to keep things on the up and up. Besides, the owner was a pretty laid back guy and the wage wasn’t so bad, especially since he kept such poor records and it was easy to embezzle ten to twenty bucks per shift by forging phony receipts.

“Nothing, I’m sure it will be fine.”

“That’s more like it. Why don’t you take the trash out?”

“Sure.” Eddie walked to the back of the building where the kitchen was and grabbed the large can under the sink, taking it with him to empty the smaller cans in. When he was finished, he told Michelle he was taking it out to the dumpster.

“Cool.”

Eddie was a singer in a psychedelic band and prided himself in being somewhat anti-establishment; it wasn’t his fault that his parents had instilled an overly healthy work ethic in him from an early age on. Besides, every time he tried to do something dishonest there was always a hitch in the plan. When ever he called in sick to work his employers never failed to call back to see if he was really at home or not-which he wasn’t-and he often got caught. He didn’t mind bouncing from job to job when they were shitty or the owner was a dickhead, but he actually liked the Chili Bowl and was happy with what he had. They accommodated him when he had out of town shows and he was able to feed his bandmates for free. He didn’t like to rock the boat when he had a good thing going.

He stepped out into the humid August evening, the smell of the dumpster assaulting him with it’s rank odor. Eddie had his share of experience with dumpsters. Every lousy restaurant job he’d ever held always invariably led to a daily run in with the damn thing, some experiences worse then others. As a dishwasher in any restaurant it was a prerequisite that he sometimes make room in the odiferous container for more rotten pasta, half eaten steaks, mountains of soggy French fries, congealed gravy, moldering ketchup, rancid mayonnaise and so on. He’d crawl in and stomp over the squishy trash, the dumpster ooze seeping into his tattered sneakers, the smell saturating his callused feet. Those were the jobs that you walked out on without giving a fuck, but here at the Chili Bowl he was a waiter/cashier/dishwasher, and that was everybody’s status. They all split the duties. The owner made the chili so there was no need for any of them to cook, except to prepare sandwiches and put together hotdogs, which took all the skill of assembling a five-piece jigsaw puzzle for Down syndrome children. Any idiot could do it. Eddie was quite content. Lifting the lid, he tossed the semi-full bag of trash in without even getting anything on him, another plus.

When he returned, Michelle was telling a young couple that she was sorry, but they were closing early this evening because of electrical problems.

“Can’t we just get a couple of bowls of chili to go?” The bespectacled young man asked, a note of irritation in his voice. Judging by his demeanor he wasn’t used to people in the service industry telling him ‘no’ and damned if he was going to take that for an answer. Now, Eddie had come from a very humble background and had a deep-seated contempt for rich people, especially those who thought that they were better then everybody else just because they could buy their way to the front of the line, so to speak.

“Sorry, we’re closing early tonight.” Eddie said, stepping up behind Michelle, backing her up.

“How hard is it to fill a couple of to go bowls with chili?” The guy said, sneering.

Eddie could totally read his type. If they gave in and acquiesced, then this guy would want something else, a sandwich, all the ingredients on the side, mayo in a separate container, some shit like that. It was how these types of interactions invariably went down. In the end, the jerk would affirm that he was better then they were, and that he had gotten the best of them because they were the servants and he was the customer, and he was always right god damnit.

Well, as chance should have it, the owner was probably sitting in front of the large screen plasma TV at his house, wondering why his wife of fifteen years had left him, and the manager had been fired two days previously because of a difference of opinion that he simply could not overlook, leaving Michelle and Eddie in charge of how this little exchange was going to go down. It didn't appear as if it was going to be in the other’s favor.

“It isn’t hard,” Eddie conceded politely, keeping his voice free of annoyance, trying to sound as fair as he could, yet at the same time asserting himself. “We are closed is all. I suggest you take your business elsewhere.”

“I’m sure the owner would serve us.” The guy said, expelling a pent up breath harshly and Eddie smelled liquor. To top it all off the guy was drunk.

“I don’t see the owner anywhere, do you?” Eddie said, resentment finally rising up within him. He wasn’t quick to anger, but once he got there it was all he could do to back down. It often happened to him in work related situations, but mostly at other employees. He tried his best not to unleash his rage on customers, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. Michelle sensed this and stepped between them.

“Well, maybe we could give them a couple of bowls…” She said quickly and Eddie shot her a terse glance. ‘We already told them no’ his look said.

“You better listen to your co-worker there, she knows that the customer is always right.”

In that second Eddie had to make a quick decision: appease the asshole to make him go away or stick to his guns and tell him to shove off. Hell, the Greek restaurant was two doors down and they were serving until well after three am. For this prick it had simply become a battle of wills. He just wanted to have his way. The question was, did Eddie want to put his job on the line just to prove a point? By submitting to the other did it make him lesser of a person?

“What kind of chili did you want?” Michelle was asking them, stepping aside to let them in the door.

“I really don’t like chili,” The girl said. “Do you serve anything else? Could I get a sandwich?”

That was the straw that broke the camels back. Eddie stepped in front of Michelle, chest to chest with the patrons. Gripping the door firmly, Eddie looked them both in the eye, keeping the menace in his voice to a minimum in case this was reported to the owner and he had to defend himself later.

“We are closed.” He said simply, shutting the door in their faces, pulling the shade down on their startled expressions. Inside he felt hot and cold, agitated but triumphant. He hated giving in to pricks like them. It was the request for the sandwich that did it, of course. It really had just been a battle of wills, not an all-consuming desire to have chili. At least not for the chick. The guy probably had a hankering for a bowl of the Texas style, which Eddie had to admit was pretty kick ass, especially with shredded cheese and sour cream.

Michelle was laughing behind him.

“Way to go,” She said. “No doubt that will get back to Bob.”

“I couldn’t care less.” Eddie replied, heading for the back to get the broom. “Those fuckers wasted ten minutes of our time.”

“Just the same we should have served them.”

“You were the one that told them we were closed.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think they were going to make an issue out of it.”

“Too late.” Eddie said simply, retrieving the broom when something caught his attention, something in the corner of his eye. He swung his head around and looked where he thought he had seen movement.

“Holy shit…”

Squeezed underneath one of the kitchen counters was a man, holding his legs, eyes averted as if he were applying the ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ rule. Sweat trickled down the side of his ruddy face.

For one surrealistic moment Eddie thought he was hallucinating. This was certainly the last thing that he expected to encounter tonight.

“Jim?” Eddie asked.

The man unfolded his legs and climbed out from under the counter, doing his best to act as if his appearance in such an odd spot wasn’t, well, odd.

“Just doing a surprise inspection.” Jim said, trying to sound official, ignoring the fact that his clothes were disheveled, his hair mussed and he stank to high heaven of whisky and booze sweat.

“I thought Bob, um, fired you two days ago.” Eddie said, wincing inside after he said it. He knew he should pick his words carefully so as not to upset the other and here he had gone and blurted it out.

“It was a mutual arrangement that the two of us came up with.” Jim said, walking toward the dining room. “What time is it?”

“Uh, quarter to ten.”

“Why is the front shade down?”

“It’s been really slow so Bob told us to close early.” Eddie said lamely, following the other into the dining room.

“Jim,” Michelle said haltingly when she saw him. “What brings you here?”

“Special mission.” He said dismissively, passing by her and approaching the steam table where she had been diligently cleaning and putting the chili in plastic containers. He grabbed a bowl and began to ladle Texas chili into it. His aim wasn’t dead on and drops of the red stuff splattered thickly onto the floor. “Oops.”

Leaning precariously against a counter, he found a spoon and began filling his mouth with the lukewarm food.

Michelle and Eddie stared at one another, wondering what to do.

Two days previous, Jim and Bob had had a tremendous falling out and Bob had fired Jim and thrown him out of the restaurant, threatening to call the cops if Jim didn’t leave peaceably. Jim had been an awesome manager but he was a notorious drunk, and a public one to boot. Bob didn’t like the fact that Jim would get wasted two doors down from the Chili Bowl and be recognized by half of their clientele, even though they were mostly drunks themselves. Bob was old fashioned; he didn’t think it looked right. The trouble was, when Jim got drunk you never really knew what he was going to do, he was totally unpredictable. He might help an old lady across the street, lend you two hundred dollars, invite you to move into his house or he just might slash all of your tires with a straight razor and kidnap your baby. He was open to many possibilities.

“So Bob’s not mad at you anymore?” Michelle asked and the other shook his head as he blew on the tepid chili.

“Nope, said everything was fine and sent me down here to check in on you two.”

Eddie looked at Michelle and she rolled her eyes. Shit. If they called Bob then they would have to explain that they had closed the door early, but if they didn’t call Bob and Jim was lying, there was no telling what he was up to. They needed to talk it over so Eddie motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen.

“We’re gonna start putting the food away,” Eddie explained to Jim. “Why don’t you grab the veggie chili and I’ll take the Cincinnati.” He instructed Michelle.

“Sure.” She said.

Jim didn’t pay them any mind; he just reached into a drawer and, finding the shredded cheese, added a handful to his bowl.

“What the hell are we going to do?” Eddie whispered once they were out of his sight.

“I don’t know. You think he’s lying?”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“What does your gut tell you?”

“That he’s full of shit?”

“Ding ding, you win a prize.”

“What should we do then?”

“We should call Bob and tell him that his disgruntled employee has returned, but then we’ll have to tell him that we closed early.”

“Do we have to tell him?”

“No, but Jim might mention it so it would be best to stick to the truth.”

“Fuck this, I want to get the hell out of here. We were supposed to take some acid and hang out with my friends tonight.”

“Well, no shit.” Eddie had been begging Michelle for weeks to let him hang out with her girlfriends. They all did a lot of drugs and were pretty slutty and, well, Eddie needed to get laid. What was better then screwing a chick on acid? Seriously, what was fucking better then that?

“Should we just leave him here?” Michelle asked as she stashed the chili in the walk in cooler.

“I don’t think that would be the responsible thing to do, but it sure sounds like the easiest.”

“We could always call Bob from my house.”

“Yeah, we could do that-”

“What’s going on guys? Are you almost done?” Jim said, startling them both as he popped around a corner, a strange smirk planted on his face.

“Uh, yeah, almost. We just have to mop the floor.”

“I’ll take care of it, why don’t you two head on home. I got it from here.”

“Uh…” Michelle said, looking at Eddie who shrugged his shoulders. The last thing Eddie wanted to do was challenge Jim, who stood a foot taller and was broader in the shoulders and waist. If it came to a physical struggle Jim would certainly have the advantage. Besides, Eddie had already shown his true colors by not letting the couple have a to go order, why should he fight for the place? Fuck it.

“Okay, we’re out of here.” He said.

“What do you have to do?” Michelle asked, not budging, her brow creased, her light blue eyes revealing a hint of concern.

“I just have to go over the inventory, nothing too complicated. Bob knows I’m here.”

Sure he does, thought Eddie, and I’m getting promoted to manager tomorrow.

“I don’t know…” Michelle said as Jim put an arm around her shoulder and Eddie’s, leading them to the door.

“I’ll lock up behind you, don’t worry. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“I thought Bob took your key away.” Michelle said and for a moment Jim paused. Actually, Jim had dramatically taken it off of his key ring in the heat of their battle and had thrown it out the door and into the street.

“I got a new one.” He said quickly, opening the door. “Now go.” And he shuffled them out and into the dark neon lit night, the door locking behind them.

The two walked down the street a ways before stopping and conferring with one another.

“This doesn’t feel right.” Michelle said.

“I know.” Eddie agreed.

“I think he’s lying.”

“Well, duh!”

“What should we do?”

“Let’s drop a tab of acid and call Bob from your house.” Eddie suggested and that’s what they did, except that they forgot to call Bob right away, they didn’t do that until several hours later, when Eddie realized that he wasn’t going to score with any of Michelle’s friends because they thought he was stupid. It wasn’t his fault; it was just that he was really high.

They had sent him to the store to get some smokes and on his way there, while waiting for a red light, he heard thumping coming from a large wooden box on the corner. He stopped, put his ear against the box and listened. Again, the thumping sound. ‘Somebody must be trapped inside the box!’ he thought and he knocked on it in reply.

“Are you okay in there? Can you breathe?”

And that was how Michelle and her friends found him much later, his ear against the wooden box, knocking lightly, talking to the ‘person’ inside, assuring them that they would be okay.

“What the hell are you doing?” Michelle asked from the passenger seat of her girlfriend’s car.

“Someone’s trapped inside!”

The girls rolled their eyes. No one bothered to tell Eddie that the box contained the apparatus that changed the lights from red to yellow to green and that the thumping he was hearing was the machinery inside.

“We should call Bob.” She said instead and Eddie nodded, leaving the box and climbing in the car. “I should do the talking.” She added and Eddie agreed.

Michelle dialed the phone as Eddie paced around behind her, smoking one cigarette after another.

“Your friends don’t like me.” He muttered.

“They like you, they just think you are stupid is all.”

“Oh…”

When Michelle hung up the phone it was her turn to feel stupid.

“What happened?” Eddie asked.

“Jim broke the safe open and took everything inside.”

“No way!”

“Way. Bob wanted to know why we left him in there and why we didn’t call.”

“Did you tell him that he was drunk and scary and that he made us leave?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t explain why we didn’t call right away.”

“Why didn’t we?”

“We forgot.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“No, I just hung up.”

“Do you think we’re fired?”

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“I don’t think any of your friends want to have sex with me.” Eddie said, no longer interested in the Chili Bowl.

“Nope.” Michelle agreed.

“Will you have sex with me?” He asked earnestly and she shot him a glare.

“What do you think?”

“That it’s time to go home.” He said glumly. “You think that chick with the car will give me a ride?”