Working at YumBurger has been hard these past few years. The company is on the brink of bankruptcy, the customers are rude, and the food tastes like slop. If only she didn't have to pay her college tuition, Allison would be out of there faster than the seconds of awkward silence that her customers choose not to fill with a "thank you." She keeps insisting that she'll quit as soon as she saves up enough to get her PhD.

"Ah well, just another 6 years or until I keel over from exhaustion. Whichever comes first."

She doesn't mind the fact that people make impossible demands ("I want a plate of lasagna!" "Uh, ma'am, we only serve burgers here…" "WHAT?! Get me your manager!") or even that she gets paid minimum wage to deal with maximum BS. What bothers her most is how dehumanizing all of it is. Very few people actually refer to her by name, despite her name tag being prominently displayed on her shirt. It's rare if she ever gets thanked when working drive-through. To the unidentifiable shadows behind the windshields, she's just a voice in a box, a computer whose sole purpose is to take their orders.

But what choice does she have? She can't exactly quit. Her family is counting on her to not only pay her own college tuition, but also to help pay for their needs. Her mother passed away years ago and her father is a mechanic working 60 hour weeks. She literally can't afford to let the dehumanization get to her.

But sooner or later, everyone has a breaking point. Allison was pushed past hers on a sunny Tuesday afternoon.

She was actually having a semi-decent day, at least until Mrs. Hendrickson lumbered through the door. The sound of her livid footfalls did not bode well. Mrs. Hendrickson was notorious for complaining every week and everyone that dealt with her was scarred. Unfortunately this week it was Allison's turn.

She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and greeted her with a smile and a "Hi Mrs. Hendrickson! How may I help you?"

She regretted it almost instantly. Mrs. Hendrickson went on a screaming tirade about how cold her burger was (even though she placed her order an hour before picking it up) and demanded a new one. Allison, scared out of her wits, informed her in a squeaky falsetto that it was against company policy to give out free food.

Mrs. Hendrickson cycled through several different shades of red before settling on an unflattering ketchup color. She then proceeded to bellow "Get me your manager" at poor Allison. Allison hurriedly did as she was told, grateful for the fresh air and respite. Though she was calmer now, Mrs. Hendrickson's hulking form was still visibly upset.

Allison couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what," she thought to herself. "I don't care what I have to do to support myself. With God as my witness, I will never deal with another ridiculous customer as long as I live." At the end of her shift, she took off her apron, took down her hair, and never stepped foot in YumBurger again.