I was not looking forward to working on a Friday night. My feet were sore and my calves were covered in mosquito bites that made me want to assert the fetal position and scratch them until they were raw. Perhaps, then, to my benefit, I was scheduled for a 6 hour shift.
Working at an ice cream shop, (if you haven't noticed that's what I've been doing lately) you quickly learn that the magic time is 7:00 pm. 7:00 pm is the time when the store is busiest, when the rush starts. Based on this theory, I was quite pleased when 7:00 worked its way around and the line still hadn't made it past 5 people at once.
By 7:30, I was leaning against a freezer, stretching my back, when my manager crossed paths with me. He sighed, indicating he was tired. "What's the problem? We aren't even busy," I protested. Immediately, he swung around to look at me with great, buggy eyes.
"I can't believe you just said that," he admonished.
I rolled my eyes and went back to stretching my back. Now 7:45, I cared little for outside omens.
I stopped rolling my eyes when we were backed up to both doors by 8:00 and working tirelessly till 9:30.
I guess I forgot to knock on wood. Also, you probably shouldn't roll your eyes at your manager. It's bad karma.
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