I got to work at the leisurely hour of 7 am.
I like that shift because it has the amazing benefit of enabling me to stop at Starbuck's on the drive in, something patently impossible to do on my 3 am shifts, which is really when I need it.
Anyway, as I was going through my morning routine, putting my Craftsman leather box knife holder on my belt, finding my nametag, getting out my store keys, looking at the previous day's figures, a co-worker innocently said, "How's your day?"
To which I innocently replied, " Great, not not much can go wrong by 7 am."
Then the phone rang. Seems H__'s car had been stolen.
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