Week 21 – Friday to Sunday
Friday, Saturday, Sunday. The weekend arrived like a tidal wave. Bolstered by Tammy's obsessive prep efficiency and Henry's smooth front-of-house operation, Theo made the call, go all out. They prepped for 200 sales each day.
Friday was immense. A constant queue from 5 PM until closing. They worked like a well-oiled machine, communication surprisingly smooth despite Tammy's occasional insistence on specific procedural steps. Final tally: 183 sales.
Saturday was even busier. The energy was electric, customers buzzing about the "legendary chicken." They were on track to easily clear 200 when a minor disaster struck. Tammy, trying to rearrange chickens on an already loaded spit for "better heat flow," accidentally knocked five whole cooked birds onto the greasy floor. A collective groan went through the small kitchen. Tammy looked horrified, muttering about improper weight distribution. Theo, seeing the queue outside, just took a deep breath. "It happens," he said calmly, surprising himself. "Clean it up, Henry grab more from the warmer, keep the line moving." They lost those five sales, but recovered quickly, ending the night at 195 sales.
Sunday was the peak. Non-stop from open till close. They hit the 200-prep limit by 8:30 PM, selling every last piece of chicken and nearly all the chips. Absolute, exhilarating exhaustion.
Theo leaned against the counter, surveying the controlled chaos of the cleaned-up but clearly hard-worked shop. Empty rotisserie spits gleamed under the lights, bags of potato peelings waited by the back door, the air still thick with the satisfying scent of success and charcoal. Henry was wiping down the fryer bank with exhausted efficiency, while Tammy was meticulously reorganizing the spice containers on the shelf for the third time that evening. They were all tired, soaked in sweat and smelling faintly of chicken salt, but buzzing with the residual energy of the relentless rush. Selling out two hundred orders on a Sunday night… it felt like a major victory.
The shop was finally quiet, cleaned, prepped for Monday. Henry and Tammy were packing up, tired but visibly pleased with the weekend's success. Theo pulled out the cash for their wages. He'd decided on 10 hours per day as standard for calculation, even if some shifts ran slightly over or under, keeping it simple. Henry: 6 days * 10 hours/day * $10/hr = $600. Tammy: 4 days * 10 hours/day * $10/hr = $400.
"Alright team," Theo announced, holding up two envelopes. "Incredible week. Seriously smashed it." He handed Henry his envelope. "Base pay, plus a twenty percent bonus for the insane numbers we hit." ($600 + $120 = $720). He handed Tammy hers. "Same for you, Tammy. Twenty percent bonus. Really appreciate you both jumping in and working so hard." ($400 + $80 = $480).
Henry's jaw dropped slightly. "Whoa! $720? For a week? Thanks, boss!"
Tammy looked genuinely surprised, her usual intensity softening. "Seriously? A bonus already? Thank you, Theo. It… it was actually kind of fun, crazy as it was."
"You both earned it," Theo said simply. He watched them finishing up, feeling a complex mix of pride, relief, and calculation. The chicken shop wasn't just viable; it was rapidly becoming a serious money-spinner. The payroll was significant, but the revenue easily covered it, leaving substantial profit.
"Alright," Theo announced, pushing himself off the counter. "Incredible weekend, team. Absolutely smashed it. Sold out hours early." He looked at his two employees, seeing their fatigue but also the spark of shared accomplishment. The usual paranoia about interaction felt distant, overshadowed by the sheer success they'd collectively achieved. "Listen, since we closed up early... dessert's on me. Let's celebrate."
Henry's tired face lit up. "Seriously? Awesome! I could totally go for some ice cream right now."
Tammy paused her spice organizing, looking slightly surprised. "Dessert? Oh. Okay. That's... nice of you, Theo."
"You both earned it," Theo said. "There's that place down the street, 'The Sugar Spoon'? Let's lock up and head over."
Fifteen minutes later, they were sliding into a booth at the brightly lit dessert cafe. The Sugar Spoon was known for its over-the-top cakes, elaborate sundaes, and gourmet ice cream flavors. The contrast between its cheerful, sugary atmosphere and the greasy, high-pressure environment they'd just left was almost jarring.
They ordered quickly, Henry went straight for a massive "Volcano Fudge Sundae," Tammy chose a precise-looking slice of Black Forest Gateau with a side of black coffee ("Need something to cut the sweetness," she explained), and Theo, still wary of caffeine but needing something, opted for a simple slice of New York cheesecake and a bottle of sparkling water.
As they waited, Henry was practically vibrating with energy despite the long shift. "Man, that was insane!" he grinned, recounting a particularly frantic moment during the rush. "Did you see that lady who tried to order twelve whole chickens? I thought her eyes were gonna pop out when you said we were sold out!" He laughed. "This place is really taking off, Theo! Maybe next weekend we could try prepping even more? Or what about adding some simple sides, like coleslaw? Or maybe even milkshakes if we got a blender?"