Why did I volunteer to clean up after the Christmas party? That is what I ask myself, now. When my boss, Mr. Geesler (Or Mr. Geezer, as I call him), asked "Who'll clean up?" I said I'd do it. Yes, I knew it was Jessica's turn, but I offered to do it for her, since she wasn't feeling good. It's twelve o'clock, now.
Mr. and Mrs. Mauney, regular visitors to the Corner Side Café, wanted to have a Christmas party here. It was huge. The party, I mean. Because it was a party that may have been a bit too big for the café, our Corner Side Café was closed to non-guests this night. There were coffee spills, crumbs, and coffee cups everywhere. All waiting for me to clean them up.
The party was on Christmas Eve. Now it was twelve o'clock. All the little kids, including my little brother, would be, to quote ''Twas the Night Before Christmas', all asleep in their beds, while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads. Santa Claus would be delivering presents, as well as my mother and father, and I wouldn't be there to celebrate. My family would miss me, I'm sure, but they would still be going along their merry way, putting my presents aside until I got back. It's not really the presents though. I could do without out those extra socks and watches. What disappointed me most, was not spending Christmas with my family. It's just wrong for a sixteen year old not to have Christmas with their family.
I went over to the coffee pot and poured me some coffee in the only clean mug left. I would need a lot of coffee to stake out the night and tidy up the café. I took a sip of the cold coffee as I went to the closet. I'd need to warm up the coffee later. The broom was set up against the wall, along with the mop and various other cleaning items. I set down the cup and started sweeping. Crumbs were swept into a pile on the floor. I got out a sweeping pan and swept up all the crumbs into it. I dumped it all into the garbage can. I knew the garbage man would have today off.
I repeated the process about one hundred times, taking the occasional sip of coffee. Sweep, sweep, sweep. Was that what I was doomed to do for the rest of my life? It would take hours, no matter how small the Corner Side Café was.
I leaned against the cappuccino machine and wiped my brow. Soon, I'd have to pour another cup of the cold coffee. I sighed and started talking. To myself, the cappuccino machine, whoever. It didn't matter. "Don't you think it's so unfair? To spend Christmas here. Maybe it counts as a service project. I doubt it. Don't even get overtime pay. No, no. I'm doing this for the good of the Corner Side Café. The only reason is because I love this café. The coffee, Expressos, cappuccino machine, and even those little red stirring straws no one ever throws away. Yeah, that's it."
With that, I armed myself with Pinesol and a mop and continued my never ending toil.