Mad Cactus
The Mad Cactus is a Mexican restaurant in a suburb in northeastern Ohio. That should have been an omen of bad things to come. It was a nice place, stucco walls, outlined with red trim, and plants surrounded the whole building. There was a patio where people could sit and drink, and the facilities were kept clean. It was known for the fun, crazy waitresses, and great wings. Looks can be deceiving, and that is what I am here to say. My tenure as a busboy and many other jobs at the Cactus was about to come to an end after three years. In those years I had many emotions built up inside, and I was not going to let them slip away before I quit. Breaking ones’ ties after substantial time is not as easy as it may seem though. This seemingly one sided battle was now going to be fought on two fronts: externally and internally. It was a Friday, the regular Friday it had been for three years now. It was not busy yet, but it was sure to be later. I pulled into the parking lot at about five, punctual and perky as ever. The reason for the perkiness was linked to my plot of resigning. That’s right, my plan was to resign, throw in the towel, put my two week notice in. So I walked in, said hello to the cooks, walked throug
Everything stopped; the clouds, the wind, and the drums all came to a halt. She looked down at her desk and the clutter that surrounded her desk, and a tear dropped from her face. A tear of sorrow and sadness, and that was it. I had prevailed, my goals were accomplished, and I was on my way to the parade. I stood up, dusted myself off (anything in the basement always had dust on it), and walked into the office. I saw her smiling face as always, and her cluttered desk filled with who knows what. I felt at home for that second, then I realized that I was trying to escape home, not enjoy its clutter. I sat down and told her that I needed to talk to her about something that had been bothering me. I then realized that my ties here were stronger then I had anticipated. She asked what it was and I began telling her of my frustrations and of the shortcomings that the Cactus had provided. So it began. I had made the first move, the charge into battle. I was firing my shots at her, seeing what she could throw back. She interrupted me and began a full fledged assault on my career and accomplishments. I could already tell this was going to be an epic battle, one for the ages. I started to question the decisions that she had made concerning my scheduling and pay. She retorted by quoting some stupid policy from the company syllabus. Everything was whizzing like bullets past our heads. Every comment we made was like a thrust to the heart, with each nearly missing. The tempo of our conversation continued to quicken. It was like war drums were driving us faster and faster into total annihilation, and finally I said it.
Some topics in this essay:
Cactus Mexican,
basement basement,
Mad Cactus,
mad cactus,
hello cooks,
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Approximate Word count = 1118
Approximate Pages = 4 (250 words per page double spaced)
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