A day of Waiting.

I walk toward my car with keys in hand, prepared to escape as soon as that door is unlocked. I re-cap everything that had taken place over the last six hours, “Ma’am, how old is this coffee?” “Excuse me miss, can we have our bread now?” “Girl, Girl! What’s taking so long?” “I’m sorry, can we sit at this table? I know it’s dirty, but we can wait.” Excuse me public, you must be blind, or just completely disregarding the other fifty people in the room. I get the drivers seat, but can’t pull away fast enough. The voices follow me, Ma’am, Miss, Girl, Everything but my name. Work is such a cruel joke. No one there really knows you, or cares about you. They are just constantly expecting, constantly complaining, constantly forgetting to say thank you. Excuse me public, I don’t even get minimum wage, I don’t really care about your day, just my car payment. I’m almost home, and realize I forgot something. Do I want to go back, can I survive a day without my cell phone? If I go back, a customer will see me and ask for something, I just know it. I won’t be able to say no, even though my shift is done. Maybe I can get away with it if I go home to change my clothes. I go back for my phone, in street clothes, but it doesn’t matter. Excuse me public, I have a life, and obligations, and a family of my own, who is waiting for me to eat dinner.