Welcome to Los Angeles.
The city of fallen and angels, glamour and glitz galore. What’s that you see in the distance? Yes, that is the legendary Hollywood sign. That distant glint in the hills? The Playboy Mansion. Celebrities are everywhere, Disneyland is a stone’s throw away.
What? Mickey Mouse isn’t your style. Then drop a tab or pop a pill and go to a rave, everybody down with those girls in the EDM outfits — wish I could have four, one for each limb. If that isn’t your style, go to the skatepark; couple of dudes there lately who are gonna go pro, believe that, they're nutso and they’re cute, their dimples will help. THAT AIN’T GAY! It’s true dude!
That isn’t your style? Alright, fine, go get stoned and hit up one of the arcades. Mortal Kombat rules: Winner stays, loser pays. Dig it, maybe you’ll end up against one of those savage dudes who stream and make more money playing games than you could ever believe.
Still not for you? Well, fuck it. The ocean meets the sand here, head down to the beach and enjoy the sun, the bathing suits, and the surf. It’s sick every day, and if you don’t board then just rent a jetski and tear it up. This is it, man. This is tops. Something for everyone...
This is heaven! Right?
WRONG, DUDE.
You’re here. You’re at the Sunshine Diner. You have to deal with those screaming Disney kids. You have to deal with the crazy parents who will ruin your goddamn day if you so much as glance at their misbehaving kids. You have to deal with the old people who are assholes. You have to deal with the people who write ‘read the Bible!’ where it says ‘tip’ on their receipts.
Fun?! You CAN’T AFFORD FUN! THE ECONOMY IS IN THE SHITTER RIGHT NOW! Fifteen dollars an hour is a myth, it’s never coming!
You think a celebrity comes in here and you get to MEET them? You’ll be damn lucky if you get to take the fucking picture of them to hang on the wall while our glorious leader and the owner of this HELLHOLE chats them up so that he can act like he’s the second coming of Jesus with all these friends in high places!
You aren’t going up. There’s no forward motion here. This is DEAD END, my friend. You’re making 11 dollars an hour for the rest of your career here. Now, that might help you make it through college, like yours truly. It might support you while you try to make it big in the music industry, like the kid that doesn’t work half the time. But it ain’t gonna buy you an Audi, hell it won’t even buy you a Lexus.
Am I trying to scare you off of this job? Of course not. I’m the captain. I’m the man, I’m the leader, I’m the BOSS. You’re part of the ship now. That means you’re part of the crew.
Welcome to Los Angeles, enjoy your stay.
The city of fallen and angels, glamour and glitz galore. What’s that you see in the distance? Yes, that is the legendary Hollywood sign. That distant glint in the hills? The Playboy Mansion. Celebrities are everywhere, Disneyland is a stone’s throw away.
What? Mickey Mouse isn’t your style. Then drop a tab or pop a pill and go to a rave, everybody down with those girls in the EDM outfits — wish I could have four, one for each limb. If that isn’t your style, go to the skatepark; couple of dudes there lately who are gonna go pro, believe that, they're nutso and they’re cute, their dimples will help. THAT AIN’T GAY! It’s true dude!
That isn’t your style? Alright, fine, go get stoned and hit up one of the arcades. Mortal Kombat rules: Winner stays, loser pays. Dig it, maybe you’ll end up against one of those savage dudes who stream and make more money playing games than you could ever believe.
Still not for you? Well, fuck it. The ocean meets the sand here, head down to the beach and enjoy the sun, the bathing suits, and the surf. It’s sick every day, and if you don’t board then just rent a jetski and tear it up. This is it, man. This is tops. Something for everyone...
This is heaven! Right?
WRONG, DUDE.
You’re here. You’re at the Sunshine Diner. You have to deal with those screaming Disney kids. You have to deal with the crazy parents who will ruin your goddamn day if you so much as glance at their misbehaving kids. You have to deal with the old people who are assholes. You have to deal with the people who write ‘read the Bible!’ where it says ‘tip’ on their receipts.
Fun?! You CAN’T AFFORD FUN! THE ECONOMY IS IN THE SHITTER RIGHT NOW! Fifteen dollars an hour is a myth, it’s never coming!
You think a celebrity comes in here and you get to MEET them? You’ll be damn lucky if you get to take the fucking picture of them to hang on the wall while our glorious leader and the owner of this HELLHOLE chats them up so that he can act like he’s the second coming of Jesus with all these friends in high places!
You aren’t going up. There’s no forward motion here. This is DEAD END, my friend. You’re making 11 dollars an hour for the rest of your career here. Now, that might help you make it through college, like yours truly. It might support you while you try to make it big in the music industry, like the kid that doesn’t work half the time. But it ain’t gonna buy you an Audi, hell it won’t even buy you a Lexus.
Am I trying to scare you off of this job? Of course not. I’m the captain. I’m the man, I’m the leader, I’m the BOSS. You’re part of the ship now. That means you’re part of the crew.
Welcome to Los Angeles, enjoy your stay.
The Sunshine Diner, a beautiful piece of downtown LA. The sign on the outside claims it’s historic, the reality is it was opened in 2010. It’s designed to have that ‘oldschool’ feeling though, down to a pinball machine near the front door. It serves mostly American food, but also a few different Mexican dishes. It’s in SoCal, what did you expect? It’s owned by an older dude who seems… eccentric, to say the least. Every few weeks, he stops by and wants things rearranged, or a new theme in the restaurant, or wants new menu items…
It’s always something with this fucking guy. Dude’s name is Carl, but you’ll rarely deal with him directly. For the most part, you’ll deal with his lead: Dustin Waterman, or one of his assistant managers. The dude is 24, but he basically runs this place nowadays — he’s been working here since he was a freshman in high school, and he is DONE with it all.
You might have noticed that in the little speech he gave up there; he’s a little cynical. But he sees through all the facades here, he knows damn well that his crew of burners, high school kids, and dropouts isn’t going to make it far, but he’s stuck here, since Carl gives him enough money to make it through college. So he deals, but he rules the land with an iron fist.
The customer is always right? GET THAT BULLSHIT OUT OF HERE.
This is Dustin’s town, and he’s always right. Sheriff Dusty is in fucking business and if any ‘can i see the manager’ haircut havin’ bitch thinks she’s gonna roll up in here and take advantage of his crew because half of them are kids… well, MILF or not, she’s got another thing coming. You got a problem? Call Carl. Oh wait, the dude doesn’t even have a phone. Now sit your ass down and wait for your kid’s fucking chicken nuggets like everybody else, lady. No, we’re out of crayons — and we don’t have a playplace. You walked in here. Deal with it and shut your kid up.
Let’s go, baby.
It’s always something with this fucking guy. Dude’s name is Carl, but you’ll rarely deal with him directly. For the most part, you’ll deal with his lead: Dustin Waterman, or one of his assistant managers. The dude is 24, but he basically runs this place nowadays — he’s been working here since he was a freshman in high school, and he is DONE with it all.
You might have noticed that in the little speech he gave up there; he’s a little cynical. But he sees through all the facades here, he knows damn well that his crew of burners, high school kids, and dropouts isn’t going to make it far, but he’s stuck here, since Carl gives him enough money to make it through college. So he deals, but he rules the land with an iron fist.
The customer is always right? GET THAT BULLSHIT OUT OF HERE.
This is Dustin’s town, and he’s always right. Sheriff Dusty is in fucking business and if any ‘can i see the manager’ haircut havin’ bitch thinks she’s gonna roll up in here and take advantage of his crew because half of them are kids… well, MILF or not, she’s got another thing coming. You got a problem? Call Carl. Oh wait, the dude doesn’t even have a phone. Now sit your ass down and wait for your kid’s fucking chicken nuggets like everybody else, lady. No, we’re out of crayons — and we don’t have a playplace. You walked in here. Deal with it and shut your kid up.
Let’s go, baby.
