Job hunting is probably safe and boring, no dick beatings! Unless... (BJ)

"So, John Doe, why do you want to work at the ScheisseBurger", the grossly overweight man asked you.

This did not look promising. You had thought that flipping burgers would at least be a simple job and easy to get. However, not only did the place look like someone had used a shotgun filled with feces instead of pellets and went on a shooting rampage across the kitchen, but the manager stank to high heaven and came across as the stereotypical power-tripping asshole who would enjoy nothing more than making your every working day as miserable as possible.

"I need the money", you answer with a shrug.
"That's not the sort of attitude we're looking for here at the ScheisseBurger", the lard-tank said, trying to sound menacing and to be fair, it might have actually unnerved you in the past.

It's a wonder how much constant sex with multiple hot girls can improve a man's self-confidence. Plus, the absolute reality-altering power you have over all the cheerleaders.
"Well, why else would anyone work in this shithole", you muse out loud, pretending to be seriously pondering this issue.
The fatso's blood pressure must be shootings through the roof since his face went even redder than it already had been. This is quite fun, you admitted to yourself.
"What's the hourly rate anyway? It didn't say on the poster", you asked, pointing your thumb over your shoulder vaguely towards the front of the fast-food joint.

...But before the slob of a man could decide whether to answer your question or to launch into a verbal tirade, you press on:
"Actually, it doesn't matter. I don't want to be involved in a class-action lawsuit due to food poisoning caused by this place. They should have a photo of your kitchen as the picture next to 'Health Code Violation' in the dictionary."

The manager might have an aneurysm or something, the way he clutches his grease-stained tie so you figure that's your cue to leave.

"Well, adios amigo and good luck with the next health and safety inspection", you tell him as your parting gift as you make your way outside.

Never ever have you enjoyed a failed job interview before! Whistling a tune, you step on the sidewalk and start making your way towards the bus stop.

The realization that you're waiting for a bus does sober your mood a bit. You are no closer to your dream of getting a motorcycle on your own.

With a sigh, you slump down on the bench and think about your options, considering you had no degrees and no work experience. If only there was a business in town that catered just for you!

As if on cue, a car comes to a sudden halt, brakes screeching on the black asphalt, before the driver flips it to reverse and backs up to you. Once the side window rolls down, you realize that it's Miss Samson behind the steering wheel.

"I thought I recognized you, John", she exclaims. "Jump in, I'll give you a lift", she continues, pushing the side door open with one hand.

You shrug and, congratulating yourself on that earlier wish that made the manager of the cheer-squad fall madly in love with you, and slide into her car.