I'm sorry, but New York is Closed

Devin’s shift had ended hours ago, but the night maintenance team hadn’t shown up, meaning she’d been on call, which wasn’t a bad deal. She could grab sleep and still get paid, as long as no one complained about an ice machine being out of order or something. She wrapped the arms of her downturned coveralls around her waist and shoved the baseball cap into the back pocket as she entered through the rear of the kitchen. One of the cooks was complaining about pulling a double shift also.

“The fucking national guard -” one of the bus boys added. “I seen it on the news; they closed the roads last night, heard they shut down the whole fucking city.”

“No fucking way,” Devin answered, mindlessly nibbling a piece of toast. “They closed New York?”

“That’s what I heard; bridges, tunnels, railroads - ain’t you heard a jet overhead all morning? No. They closed the fucking airports, too.”

“Hole-lee fuck. Hopefully whatever shit fest it is - they clear it up soon. I ain’t looking forward to another double.”

“You better start, because I heard that they ain’t lettin’ no one check out, not ‘til the National Guard rolls through.”

“F-M-L. Glad I ain’t gotta break that shit to these people.”

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