ABSTRACT
all right, man, so I’m bussing down tables—we gotta do our own here, and we gotta sweep, mop, wash dishes and do just about everything else too—and try-ing to keep flies off my arms and the sweat out my eyes and the seam of these polyester monkey suit pants from working into the crack of my ass. I ain’t even gonna tell you how disgusted I am with all this wreckage these ape-neck cadets have left behind. And we gotta throw' all this crap away, too. Three and a half gal-lons of milk, four, maybe five pounds of scrambled eggs, a whole pig’s worth of bacon, enough French toast to feed France, and then, like, from nowhere oT Kelly goes, “What’s so great about bein’ goddamn white?” Hello! I say to myself. There he goes. Good ol’ Kelly. But I keep my mouth shut, naturally. No sense going into it. This is Kelly.
