Monday noon, the first day back from the Thanksgiving holiday, at the construction site entrance.
Lip was preparing the items for sale a bit slowly.
They had prepared over 100 set meals for lunch today, along with other scattered items like burritos and sandwiches. most importantly, they had made four big buckets of hot cocoa.
Lip had just moved a bucket of hot cocoa to the ground and was panting for a rest when he turned his head and saw Fiona busily arranging the lunch boxes and packing the "Fill-Up Combos."
Lip couldn't stop thinking: "How complicated can selling lunch be? Collecting money and handing over stuff, can it be harder to solve than differential equations?"
In Lip's view, this matter was just handing things out and collecting money back. It didn't require brains, at most just not making mistakes when giving change.
Beeeeep
The whistle signaling the end of work came from inside the construction site, breaking the quiet atmosphere.
Before long, the sound of dense footsteps could be heard.
Lip looked towards the construction site gate following the sound, and the scene before him shocked him.
Not in twos and threes, not sparsely, but a sea of reflective vests surged directly out of the construction site gate.
These people didn't hesitate much; the vast majority of them headed straight for their small stall.
A mass of black heads bobbing, occasionally mixed with some crude jokes and curses.
"Fck."
This was the first word that popped into Lip's mind.
Did the whole fcking construction site skip work today? So many people?
This scene was more zombie-siege than a zombie siege.
Before long, voices smashed over from all directions. Countless hands reached out, some holding bills, some throwing money into the cash box and waiting empty-handed to receive food.
"Fill-Up Combo, hurry up! Don't forget the free hot cocoa!"
"I want two sets, coffee for both drinks, hurry hurry hurry!"
"Hurry up, buddy, my stomach is starving flat."
Lip felt like he had been thrown into a washing machine. His ears were buzzing, and all he could see were reflective strips and eager faces.
"Lip! Lip! What are you staring at? Pack the stuff, quick!"
"Give change, Lip, you go to the left, hurry up, you go to the left!"
Fiona had to raise her voice so Lip could know what to do amidst the noise.
"Is there enough hot cocoa? If not, we won't buy," some workers worried that with so many people, they wouldn't get to drink hot cocoa.
"Enough, enough, we prepared many buckets specially. If you buy the Fill-Up Combo, you can all drink free hot cocoa. If you don't get it, we'll refund you."
Fiona shouted while collecting money.
Lip was clumsy. He grabbed a burger and found the bag wasn't open; when taking a burrito, the greaseproof paper stuck together.
He just took a $10 bill, and someone next to him immediately handed over a $5 bill.
"Give me 1 cent back, hurry up, hurry up!"
Bills were also handed over from all directions, green, gray, crumpled, flat.
While mechanically bagging and handing out food, taking money and giving change, Lip couldn't help thinking: Is this what Shane and Fiona face every day? These "zombies"?
"Hurry up! Lunch break is only fcking 40 minutes today! If you're slower, we'll be fined!"
"Kid, if you're slower, I'll have to put the food in my helmet and eat it inside."
A few workers urged hurriedly, and people nearby also started cursing in agreement.
It was said that because of the Thanksgiving holiday, too much work had piled up. The foremen were rushing the schedule on Monday, squeezing the lunch break to a disgusting point where a few minutes less would require extra overtime pay.
Half an hour later, the tide of people began to disperse.
When the last worker trotted away with his burrito, the front of their stall finally emptied, leaving only crumpled napkins and some empty paper cups on the ground.
Lip grabbed a small folding stool and gasped for breath. He raised his hand to wipe his forehead, covered in sweat.
He looked at Fiona again, wanting to see her reaction, but Fiona looked accustomed to it.
Immediately after the crowd dispersed, Fiona hugged the metal box to the table, opened it with a clang, and swept all the scattered bills and coins on the table into the box.
Lip subconsciously leaned over to look.
The box was now stuffed full of bills of various denominations, a scene of abundance.
When watching Fiona record numbers like 500 or 600 in the notebook before, he didn't feel much reality. But now, seeing this pile of scattered bills forming a small hill with his own eyes, Lip felt this direct shock for the first time.
This was all stuffed in within less than an hour just now?
"See that, Lip."
Fiona's voice pulled his thoughts back.
"Usually, there aren't this many people at noon, but because Shane did some marketing yesterday, it sold fast today."
Staring at the money, a strong idea popped directly into Lip's head.
"Fiona."
"Hmm?"
"Why don't we use the food truck?" Lip spoke very fast, throwing Shane's warning from last night directly out the window.
"Look, you can actually handle being here alone at noon. If one of us drives, we can go to other places, like the logistics center or the labor market. As long as Shane's supply keeps up, we can open another spot."
The more he spoke, the more excited he got, as if he already saw double the bills flying towards him.
"We can take turns then. Today you run the stall and I drive, tomorrow I drive and you run the stall. And the profit can definitely fcking double."
Fiona was silent for a while.
She was all too familiar with Lip's expression and tone; it was exactly the same as hers a few days ago.
Can't help it, this was the instinctive greed for quick money in the Gallagher blood.
Although Fiona's heart skipped a beat for a moment, realistic concerns quickly overwhelmed that bit of temptation.
"No."
Fiona interrupted Lip directly.
"Because Shane said, only stalls, no food trucks. It's too obvious, the risk is too big. The way we are now, even if we are unlucky enough to get raided, we only lose a few broken tables and boxes. If the car gets impounded..."
Fiona patted the metal box full of money.
"The foundation of our business will be cut off, understand? And you can't find a second semi-free car for us to drive. Buying another one isn't worth it."
"Risk, risk. We're already setting up a stall without a license, are we afraid of taking this little risk?"
Lip started to argue. He wasn't Fiona; he hadn't been beaten down by reality yet.
"What Shane says isn't the Bible. He can't be right about every—"
Beep beep—
Two sharp honks abruptly inserted into their conversation, interrupting their dispute.