7-3

7 a.m. to 3 p.m.

That was my shift.

My first job, Del Taco, at age 16 saw me working that awful shift every Saturday and Sunday morning. 

I even had to clean the bathrooms.

But I didn't know it was awful.

I loved having my job.

My job paid for my cheerleading uniform and cheer camp. It paid for Spring Select and bits and baubles from places like 'Spencers' in the mall.  (Why did I love that place so much?)

Del Taco financed presents for my friends and family and helped me afford summer school classes at Etiwanda High.

Why, oh why, did $4.25 an hour at 7 a.m. seem worth it?????


.....  Because it was.

More or less.

After I cleaned the bathrooms at Del Taco I washed my hands (promise) and then grated cheese over a big, noisy machine.

I spread green sauce all over tortillas and sprinkled the cheese over the green sauce. 

Fold. Press. Stack.

I was 'slammed' when I was doing these dooties-er- I mean, duties, and someone would pull up through the drive-through and start barking their order.

I would have to put down my mop, or my cheese, or my green sauce and walk over to the register to put in their order and wait for them to get to the window to pay me for their breakfast burritos and o.j.s.

By 7:30 a.m. I already smelled like industrial-strength cleaner, green sauce and cheese.

But I looked kinda cute in my greasy red hat and t-shirt which likely had a huge chili and strange slogan strewn across the front.

I don't remember the t-shirt but I remember I finally managed to barter or steal a Del Taco approved sweatshirt.

It was red.

And prior to that red sweatshirt I wasn't allowed to wear anything except that silly t-shirt and freeze my arse off.

Do you know what 7 a.m. feels like in winter??

And, might I add, there's that silly blast of cold air that hits your face every time you open the drive-through window to accept someone's crusty change (let's face it- it was Del Taco and pennies from underneath the couch were the most common form of currency exchanged).

(Can someone explain why there's that blast of air?)

And in hindsight I'm not sure why I didn't protest being frozen. 

But I liked my manager, even though she was really, really skinny and sometimes people who are really, really skinny are my natural enemies.

As I walked through that front door at work, she would say: "jacket" to remind me that I was warm and comfortable and therefore needed to remove said jacket, (of course indicating she was jealous that I had meat on my bones and in her vengeance she wanted me to die of frostbite.)

It was at Del Taco that I froze my bum off and earned $4.25 an hour.

I also met Robert (Not Rob, he came much later), the guy who was so cute and worked at the movie theatre.

I saw a lot of free movies.

Robert was 19, so of course I thought I was awesome.

But then he got clingy so I broke up with him...

at Del Taco.

Then I met Scott through the drive-through.

Scott's a long story.

Then I dated someone exclusively for the next couple years so I had to break a lot of hearts at the drive-through.

That didn't keep me from harmless flirtations through the microphone, though.

In my sexiest 16 year old voice I would croon,

"Would you like to MACHO size that, sirrrr?"

I blame Miley Cyrus.  She was such a bad influence.