A Couple Days Later…
An hour and a half left, that was it and then she’d be able to go home. She couldn’t wait to get out of there and get home, she was dying to go out with Lynne tonight. Turning, she made her way down the counter, wiping it down with a wet cloth.
“Veronica, did you go through and make sure the wrappers were all cut back this morning?” Shelly asked.
Veronica groaned inwardly, it wasn’t enough that she had to open, fill wafer, do the soups, and temps, but she also had to cut the wrappers on all the products. “No, I didn’t get the chance.”
“I’m hearing that too much, we’ve gotta get someone to do it, that should be the first thing that should be done in the morning,” Shelly sighed, turning and heading into the kitchen.
Veronica watched her leave and shot her a dirty look, she always said that. And she didn’t mean someone, she meant her. Fifty million things to do and let’s pile one more on. Then when she asked someone to do it, they gave her an attitude about it, it wasn’t her idea, yet she’s the one who got the dirty looks and was told she acted like she was trying to be manager. Which she didn’t, she did her job and that was it. Being manager was one job she didn’t want.
Walking over to the sink, she picked up the mesh metal glove and slipped it on, grabbing a knife out of the sanitizer bucket. She walked over to the counter and grabbed a piece of meat, cutting at the plastic layer and the thin wrapper, cutting it around. As hard as she tried she couldn’t stop thinking of that letter she’d written to Nick. It’d only been a few days, but surely it’d gotten there by now. It didn’t take that long for a letter to get to Florida from New York. It was probably just sitting in some huge bag amongst tons of other letters.
She wondered what the mail people thought when they saw letters like that, addressed to all these famous people. What was running through their heads as they added envelope after envelope to the ever growing pile of letters? They probably laughed at the sheer naivete of the writers for them actually thinking their letters would be read, that they would be considered important. The fancy writing on the envelopes and the glitter, and the colored markers and pens and pencils declaring their love. The numerous girls with the same last name of Carter or McLean or Dorough. Veronica was sure they had a hearty laugh at the expense of fans. Or maybe not? Maybe they just didn’t care, maybe it was just the norm now.
In a few days though, she’d give up looking for some kind of response, any kind of response, even those stupid generic ones. She really was stupid to think that he’d respond, really stupid. Shaking her head, she set the meat back in the case and grabbed another, starting to cut that one. And just what would he say anyway? Thanks for writing and thanks for the support. It really was typical, not that she would complain, she’d be lucky to get a response, beggars can’t be choosers as they say.
But what were the odds? Her letter out of millions, it was like finding a needle in a haystack. And the ones he did read were usually from people in places no one had ever heard of before and from fans who’d met him five times before at five different concerts. It made her sick, the good stuff always happened to the same people over and over again and then nothing ever happens to the others, ever.
Groaning, she slammed the meat down in the case and grabbed another. She was known for self pity, she had to stop it. She wasn’t pathetic by nature, it’s just when it came to anything that had to do with them, she was hopelessly stupid. Sighing heavily, she set that piece back down and grabbed another. It was going to be a long hour and a half.
