i love those breaky noises

for many years, i worked in a restaurant. honestly, i loved that stupid place. i was damn good at my job. i would waltz into the dishroom with my arms piled high, ready to scrape the slop into the bin and catch up with whoever else was doing the same, watercooler style. sometimes, if i was having a crazy busy night or if the mood took me, i would drop a plate or mug or three on the floor, sometimes i would do it with some force, but not so much that me or the dishboy might be blinded by debris, just enough to get a good smash. the dishboys always got such a kick out of it.