Do Office Drones Dream of an Electric Happy Hour at T.G.I. Friday's?

Soon I will be joining the ranks of the nine to fivers and weekend warriors. This is something I have been avoiding all my life but as my schooling comes to an end so must my wild years. I wonder how I will adapt to change.

Am I going to become one of them? Waking up at the same time everyday? Eating my meals at the same time every day? Looking forward to the weekends? Will I be slave to the clock?

I see these folks come into my restaurant all the time in a hurry because they only have half an hour for lunch, then they wait in line to eat on the weekends with the rest of the sheep. It somehow seems pathetic.

The one comfort I have is the fact that I will still be in the industry which automatically elevates me above regular douchebags. I can still bathe in my disdain for civilians. I'll try to keep rockin' folks.

So if you see me with my wife and kids waiting fifteen minutes for a table on a Saturday night, kill me. They shoot horses, don't they?