i start the shift, (5:35),
by punching in on a computer
that persistently miscalculates
those pesky last four digits
of my social security number;
i don the genderless
black bow tie -
slick and smooth as a seal,
(and i rather look of the Arctic persuasion:
black pants, semi- white collared oxford,
those filthy sneakers encrusted with all kinds
of restaurant what-not),
oh, and then
i take a hesitant peek through the kitchens
crooked double doors, (5:43),
to find todays massive
collection of cardboard
that is my privilege -
yes, my duty-bounden HONOR,
to crush crush smash
oh mash these boxes,
beat them into submission until
their strong, unbending bodies conform
into acceptable waste-management shape.
then, its cart cart lug
yes, tote those bulky, unyielding boxes
back out the door to where
the green recycling dumpster awaits, gleaming,
hungry for this evenings feeding.
oh, but yes, lets not forget
the hoards of hungry diners,
feasting so placidly inside
the wonderfully air conditioned dining room,
where i will greet them
as if i just arrived and haven't spent
the last twenty minutes in the back of the kitchen
sweating sweating dripping
while crunching the almost
insurmountable tower of boxes
down to size.
no, i will only fill your water glass,
still filthy with some aristocratic womans
phenol red lipstick stains
that the dishwashers are too lazy - or stupid - to
notice;
yes, i will fill it up to overbrimming,
with all the relish and grace
i can muster,
even as you glare unabashadly
at my pasted-on smile,
frizzed-out, humidity-wrecked hair,
nails dirty from those
Unmentionable Restaurant Substances;
yes, it is my privilege -
yes, my holy-mary-mother-of-jesus HONOR
to serve you.
Reason for writing:
haha...if anyone has ever bussed in a restaurant, they will understand!!
Birth sign: Taurus
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