Last summer, I had to wake up at 6:30 in the morning to get ready for my job as a janitor in “McDonalds.” I had to clean the store by sweeping the floor with an overused broom that had only a few bristles left. Then I had to throw away unfinished sodas, half-eaten burgers and wipe the ketchup and mustard off the tables with a dirty rag. I was responsible to wash the oven after it had been used to cook meat. With the same old rag and a bucket of soap water, I wiped away the blood and uncooked pieces of meat. The bathrooms were worst than the blood. Inscribed within the stalls were numbers and messages that said, “Call me, I’m horny” and “I’m your sex toy, do what you want to me.” The toilets were filled with so much crap and piss that it seemed like people do not know how to flush and pee right. An employee called Jason walked in an out of the bathroom without washing his hands. I told him he should wash his hands but all he said was, “Get bent, dip*censored*.” He then shoved me aside with his dirty hands. When I got home, my brother, Ben, noticed the horrible stench from the unclean bathrooms and the urine stain, from Bob’s hands, on my shirt. My brother said to me, “You should take a bath, you smell like a Yeti.”...
