Lenny Finklestein: A Short Story

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It had been pretty much the worst day I've ever lived through-if you want to call it "lived." I've such the tale to tell. In case you aren't familiar with my circumstances, I'll elaborate on the situation. Don't worry, it won't take that long. It's a pretty far cry from your average McDonald's employee's shift, believe me. So here it goes; this is the story of me, Lenny Finklestein, and the weirdest day I've had... so far. It started bright and early Tuesday morning; I was scheduled to be at work at five. I had my morning cup of coffee, combed my hair, and donned the uniform that everyone looks so poorly upon. The shiny black shoes, the dark blue polo with poor circulation, and my trusty black hat and slacks. That outfit is the only reason I am able to pay my bills. I don't really mind my job, just so you know. I mean, it's an honest living. They really like to work you to the bone there; sometimes I go six hours straight with no break. It's mentally taxing more so than…show more content…
I glanced down at my watch with anticipation that I was about to be late, but the sun was barely visible beyond the trees of the park I was passing. "Four-thirty." I muttered sadly. I knew that this was going to be a day to remember, and yet had no idea why I felt that way. The cobblestones beneath my feet clacked in time with my breathing as the unconscious part of myself felt the urge to run. I sprinted the rest of the way to Main Street. My buddy Earl, the homeless guy that thought I was Queen Elizabeth, tried to flag me down near the entrance. He wanted to kiss my hand again this morning, I surmised, but now was not the time for such chivalry. The glowing yellow arches were the only thing in my sight as the door gave way easily and I bust into the lobby. Fortunately, it was empty enough that the judgement wouldn't be oozing from the stares of our customers: "Oh, this skinny ginger kid has shot through the front door like that. What's his

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