I push buttons. As in...on a cash register. I wear a little plastic nametag that says "Grant" on it. I wear khaki pants, a white polo shirt, and a green apron. I change lemonade containers, refill napkins, mop floors, empty garbage cans, steal cookies, wipe down tables, restock the chips, and smile the whole time. I say "small or regular?" so many times that I was told that I asked that question in my sleep. I can say, "ham genoa salami cotto salami cheddar mozzarella parmesan mustard onions olives lettuce and tomato on a toasted sourdough bun" quicker than most people can say "hi." I count change. I make minimum wage. I get food half price, but since we have a sandwich containing over 2,000 calories, I don't eat their too often. I speak spanish to the kitchen people. I steal pre-packaged cheesecake. I get insane satisfaction over the fact that I have keys to the store. I know the security code. I can't turn the alarm off. I clean bathrooms. I refill soap dispensers. I tell people what I think is good, even though I have had a mere 3 items from the menu. I make small talk. I stare people in the eyes. I accidentally charge people $2,009 for a sandwich, chips and a drink. I am afraid of the 6'5" boss. I am 5'9". I imagine what weird things I would find if I were to scour the security tapes. I don't wash my apron. I cut lemons. I close the store. I clean up spills, crumbs, and leftovers. I get angry when someone takes 50 napkins, even though I do it myself. I drink lots of lemonade. Did I mention that I make minimum wage?