When I started working
at the steakhouse
it was purely for need.

Broke and without
available credit
I needed to earn.

Even with this deep need
I dreaded each new table
like never before.

I would have dreams
of being in the weeds*
with no end in sight.

Rugged and aggressive
successful and rich
the people represented

everything I was not:
once high on the totem
now regressing down again.

After six grueling months
I settled in and
began to realize

they were no stronger
than I,
some incredibly feeble.

A steak overdone
and their worlds
might as well be ending.

Their demanding nature
is the bully
at the playground

taking your lunch money
because without your fear
he is nothing.

As I approach
three long years
I still get irritated

by the rude ones
the ones who can't listen
the overly needy ones

but 99% of the time
all irritation is gone
the second I leave.

I'd like to think
I have adjusted
just fine.

12/04/2008

Author's Note: *busy beyond fathomable control

Posted on 12/04/2008
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