Ducky Park
"Do you have a broom I can use?" you ask, having made your decision. He smiles and points you towards a cabinet. You walk to the metal free standing cabinet and open it. Within are many a broom and many a dust bucket.
You take out your new companions, broom and bucket, and turn to walk away. "And, Ricky?" He calls after you. Your turn around to see what he wants and he finishes with narrow eyes and flaring nostrils. "Don't you fuck up out there, because I'm already thinking of ways to get rid of you."
You nod and thank him and walk through the massive office to the door that leads back to the souvenir shop. The girl behind the counter and smiles as you walk past, and you give her a what you hoped would be a little wave of the hand, but ended up as some sort of weird salute to brooms. I'm such an idiot, you tell yourself with self-loathing.
You soon find yourself outside of the souvenir shop and staring down at a trash littered walkway. It’s strange how much more trash there seems to be now that you have to sweep it up.
But that's your job, so you take a deep breath and get to work. You toil at the work for countless minutes which turn to countless hours. It is not long before your feet begin to ache and your skin begins to burn. You empty your first full dust bucket into the nearest trash can and wonder if you really have been working for as long as you'd thought, or if you were so incompetent that you can't even sweep up garbage with any degree of efficiency.
You look at the clock on the nearby duck tower and find that only a half hour has passed. So it hasn't been that long and you're incompetent.
That's when you realize how hungry you are and spot a french fry on the ground with a little bit of chili at the end of it. Wasting no time, you reach down and pick up the fry. You drop the whole thing into your mouth and are satisfied by the nourishment it provides. You look around and see plenty of food, some popcorn here, a half-eaten hotdog there. Once you pick through the cigarette butts it’s almost like a buffet.
You are tossing a handful of popcorn into your open mouth when you hear a child behind you say something in a horrified whisper; "Is that guy eating garbage?"
"Yes," her mother replies. "That's him. Remember what I said at the gate, we don't talk to people like that."
"Wow," The little girl says in awe as her mother leads her away, "He really is stupid."
"Come on, darling." She says. You can hear them walking away in a fury of stomping feet and huffed breathing.
Screw them, you tell yourself. One man's trash is another man's treasure, isn't it? You chew up the rest of your popcorn and try to work a kernel out of your teeth. Turns out it’s a pebble.
There is a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see a skinny kid a few years older than you. He has a Ducky Park hat on with the stupid duck bill and a name tag that reads Rick. It's always cool when you meet someone that has the same name as you. You almost feel like there is an immediate bond with the other Ricks out there.
"Hey man, you can't be eating trash," he says to you. "It’s disgusting."
"Okay," you reply.
"We eat for free anyway," He says. "You are entitled to one meal for every four hours you work."
"Okay," you say.
He shakes his head and has a good humored smile on his face. "You got to promise me you aren’t going to eat anymore trash, okay?" He asks of you.
"Okay," you say.
"Good," He says as he starts to turn away. He stops suddenly and faces you again. "Look, if you don't think you can do it, you can always help me and the crew empty the trash bags. Just tell me now, because George told me that if you screw up once I'm supposed to fire you, and I don’t like firing people on their first day."
The prospect of perfectly good food lying on the ground was at first appealing, but you now realize that you were wrong. Trash is not supposed to be eaten. Especially when you can get free food from the stands. How stupid of you.
"So... What are you going to do?" He asks, drawing your attention back to him.
You have a decision to make.
You take out your new companions, broom and bucket, and turn to walk away. "And, Ricky?" He calls after you. Your turn around to see what he wants and he finishes with narrow eyes and flaring nostrils. "Don't you fuck up out there, because I'm already thinking of ways to get rid of you."
You nod and thank him and walk through the massive office to the door that leads back to the souvenir shop. The girl behind the counter and smiles as you walk past, and you give her a what you hoped would be a little wave of the hand, but ended up as some sort of weird salute to brooms. I'm such an idiot, you tell yourself with self-loathing.
You soon find yourself outside of the souvenir shop and staring down at a trash littered walkway. It’s strange how much more trash there seems to be now that you have to sweep it up.
But that's your job, so you take a deep breath and get to work. You toil at the work for countless minutes which turn to countless hours. It is not long before your feet begin to ache and your skin begins to burn. You empty your first full dust bucket into the nearest trash can and wonder if you really have been working for as long as you'd thought, or if you were so incompetent that you can't even sweep up garbage with any degree of efficiency.
You look at the clock on the nearby duck tower and find that only a half hour has passed. So it hasn't been that long and you're incompetent.
That's when you realize how hungry you are and spot a french fry on the ground with a little bit of chili at the end of it. Wasting no time, you reach down and pick up the fry. You drop the whole thing into your mouth and are satisfied by the nourishment it provides. You look around and see plenty of food, some popcorn here, a half-eaten hotdog there. Once you pick through the cigarette butts it’s almost like a buffet.
You are tossing a handful of popcorn into your open mouth when you hear a child behind you say something in a horrified whisper; "Is that guy eating garbage?"
"Yes," her mother replies. "That's him. Remember what I said at the gate, we don't talk to people like that."
"Wow," The little girl says in awe as her mother leads her away, "He really is stupid."
"Come on, darling." She says. You can hear them walking away in a fury of stomping feet and huffed breathing.
Screw them, you tell yourself. One man's trash is another man's treasure, isn't it? You chew up the rest of your popcorn and try to work a kernel out of your teeth. Turns out it’s a pebble.
There is a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see a skinny kid a few years older than you. He has a Ducky Park hat on with the stupid duck bill and a name tag that reads Rick. It's always cool when you meet someone that has the same name as you. You almost feel like there is an immediate bond with the other Ricks out there.
"Hey man, you can't be eating trash," he says to you. "It’s disgusting."
"Okay," you reply.
"We eat for free anyway," He says. "You are entitled to one meal for every four hours you work."
"Okay," you say.
He shakes his head and has a good humored smile on his face. "You got to promise me you aren’t going to eat anymore trash, okay?" He asks of you.
"Okay," you say.
"Good," He says as he starts to turn away. He stops suddenly and faces you again. "Look, if you don't think you can do it, you can always help me and the crew empty the trash bags. Just tell me now, because George told me that if you screw up once I'm supposed to fire you, and I don’t like firing people on their first day."
The prospect of perfectly good food lying on the ground was at first appealing, but you now realize that you were wrong. Trash is not supposed to be eaten. Especially when you can get free food from the stands. How stupid of you.
"So... What are you going to do?" He asks, drawing your attention back to him.
You have a decision to make.