Back in Breezetown

First year at college wound up alright. My illnesses faded just one day before the start of my exams. The next five days were filled with cramming, papers, and goodbyes to culminate my first year experience in a very anti-climatic sort of way. But, I have safely traveled 400 miles across the southern bible belt to return to the small town of Gulf Breeze. A quiet town where the only thing worse than the stuck up aristocracy are the eagerly ticket-dispesnsing police officers. I was clearly in the wrong for going 40 mph in a 35 mph zone. It happened a year ago, and yes, I am still bitter.
I have managed to weasel my way back to the restaurant I had so desperately wanted to quit senior year, Billy Bob's Beach Barbecue. Yet, I know I have missed this place. All the employees are just as entertaining and comical as the seasons of Family Guy or any other comedy show to your liking. Each with a background and dramatic history, like fine string twisted and tangled into the egg beater. This restaurant must have family origins or else some psychic energy, as all employees seem to be brothers or sisters of previous workers. In fact, we just might all be related. A scary fact that I know isn't true, but will entertain my mind when I'm pulling pork for the third time in a week. What is pulling pork? Well, I'll save all my job descriptions for later blogs. Afterall, I do have all summer.