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How High School Fucked Me In The Butt (a memoir by Frank Perconte)

Chapter Text

Honestly, when Frank applied at the drive-in, he only did because it was close and he knew some of the people working there. He knew he needed a job, and he didn't think making ice creams all day would be too painful. 

Boy, was he wrong. 

He thought about that first day, he was nervous and he wanted to do good at his job, but somehow doing good never looked like this is his mind. 

His short, sorry ass had been put on drive-thru as soon as his shift started. It was barely eleven in the morning when he watched the manager on duty, Lipton, walk to the window with a puzzled look. 

"I'm sorry if you want to pull around we can get your order at the window," Lip said into the headset rather loudly and Frank chuckled, "I can't hear her and she can't hear me. Can you take her order?" 

Frank nodded but even if he hadn't it wouldn't have mattered. He looked out the drive-thru window as the oldest lady came up, maybe going two miles per hour. He tried not to snicker as she pulled about three feet away from the window so he had to lean to hear what she was saying. He couldn't actually hear her, thank God he could read lips though, and he typed her order into the computer quickly. 

"Alright, it's gonna be three twenty-seven." He smiled at the old woman and tried to reach out for her money. 

He had to push himself up against the counter to reach out and suddently she whispered as loud as she could, "I have short arms." 

He had been the only one who heard that and it took everything in him not to flop out of the window in tears. By the time he could reach her hand, one of his feet was up on the counter behind him and he was practically laying out the window.

And this woman would not let go of her coins. 

He held his palm under her hand for - no joke - about five whole seconds which felt like five whole mulinutes because the counter was crushing his organs and he was biting back a laugh but she was just holding her coins above his hand as if she physically couldn't open her fingers. 

"What the fuck?" He heard from behind him once he finally was able to take his foot off of the counter and breathe. Shutting the window, he turned to where Muck and David were in stitches and he finally let himself laugh, tears coming to his eyes as he tried to stuff the three dollars into his wallet. 

Lip had come back from the kitchen, apperently he'd left before Frank had climbed up on the counter to make the food, and was smiling at the three, unsure of what was really going on and when David finally caught his breath he gasped out, "Frank was literally just laying there out the window!" 

"She wouldn't give me her coins!" He defended and at that point Lipton was cracking up with them, "Jesus, now I have to hand her the food and I'm wondering if it'd be easier to just walk outside and bring it to her."

Lipton chuckled as he set the food on the counter and he watched, wondering how difficult it'd be to hand out the bag. Somehow it happened without incident, Frank honestly just hoped that she enjoyed that burger for all the trouble it was worth.