of Vodka.” Joe looked at John’s sullen, heavy eyes. “You too, huh, Dykes?”
“No.”
“Dudes, why do you keep calling him a dyke?” the new guy asked as he placed his paper hat on his short, gelled hair.
John scowled at the guy before Bigger jumped at introducing him. “Oops. Sorry. This is the new baker Justin. Justin, this is John. He works in supply.”
“Dude, why do they keep callin’ you a dyke?”
John looked at him. Again, Bigger jumped to answer. “You see, John’s name used to be John Dykes. For three years, we all called him Dykes, you know, because that was his name. Then he changed his name to John Bacchus. But calling him Bacchus is like too weird.”
“Dude, so why don’t you change your name back?”
Dykes shrugged his shoulders. “Now that it’s not my name, I don’t mind being called that.”
Justin had such a confused look on his face that he actually had to close one eye. “And why are you called Bigger?”
“It’s my name,” Bigger said as he leaned an elbow on John. Bigger wasn’t as good-looking as Joe who, at the moment, looked like hell with his hangover. But Joe had jet-black hair, a strong chin, and dark eyes. Bigger had strawberry red hair and a round, friendly face that made women call him a good friend. Joe weighed fifty pounds more than Bigger who had a paunch, but in high school Joe had been “Meat” while Bigger had been “Doughboy.” Joe had a “if you got a tool like mine you need a shed for it” beer belly while Bigger was just pudgy. Bigger was not thin enough to be called “fit,” or fat enough to be Michigan sexy.
And his choice of clothing didn’t help him to be taken as a heartthrob or even be taken seriously. He had several pairs of bright green pants and purple shoes for work and less subtle clothes for the weekend.
“Hey, Bigger,” Dykes said, looking up uncomfortably at Bigger. “There’s an opening in supply. Why don’t you put in for a transfer? I don’t have anyone to talk to.”
Bigger shook his head. “Nah, I’m starting college in fall, spring, or summer.”
Now Joe shook his head. “You’ve been saying that since I’ve known ya. Hasn’t he, Dykes?”
Dykes frowned in assent. “What are you going for Bigger? I went for Religious Studies.”
“Really? Is that a major that you can do something with?”
Dykes frowned again.
“Maybe you should tell the new guy here how to transfer over,” Joe said nodding his head towards Justin.
“No way, Dude. I love working in the culinary arts. I worked at Arby’s for five years. I’m staying in the kitchen and working up through the ranks. I’m going to go punch in so when my boss comes in, I’m at my station.”
They watched the newbie walk down the hallway. Joe chuckled. “I don’t know where he’s going, I’m training him. Not that I’m going to teach him dick. He’ll be gone by the end of the year.”
“What the hell makes you say that, Joe?” Dykes asked.
“Because I never underestimate the power of stupid people in management to play with your life. Or the power of stupid people that call me dude to mess up.”
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