Curt 8

CURT POV

"Crap, I'm sorry, man," I say, throwing away another burnt burger. 

"It's alright, man. It was your first day. It took a while for me to get the hang of it as well. Trudy just locked up the front, so it's time for the nighttime clean-up," Mark says while clasping my shoulder with one of his dinner plate-like hands. 

  He moves to the end of the kitchen and opens what appears to be a supply closet. He pulls out a broom, a mop, and some spray bottles. 

  He passes me the broom with a smirk. "I trust you know how to use this," Mark says with a chuckle. 

  "Har har," I say, snatching the broom from his hand. 

I begin to sweep as his booming laugh fills the tiny space. I can't help the large smile that takes over my face. Today has been eventful, and if it weren't for Mark, I would have burned Trudy's Diner to the ground. 

I definitely have a lot to learn about operating a commercial ov