Waffle House Wednesday Night

Heading home,

Thinking about those hippies in Easy Rider

Trying to sow the gravel.

Both tanks empty.

Waffle House sits next to

A gas pump and the liquor store.

I walk over.

Nobody inside. Cold outside.

Sit at the counter.

Cold weather got you hungry, huh?

The server says.

It did.

She gives me two straws. One for each nostril.

The cook gets up from a booth.

How are you doin’ sir?

Fine, how’re you?

He takes my order.

Three eggs, two hash browns, one waffle.

Three of these orders would give you

9-6-3, which is interesting but

Doesn’t mean much except that

There’s not much else to think about here.

Another server comes up.

He’s taking over the shift.

I like your watch he says.

Thanks, I say. Although, in my opinion,

It is rather plain to notice.

At least, pretty plain to me.

Bad vibrations bouncing from the servers.

Maybe something pre-existing.

Seems like he’s pushing her buttons.

Being too much.

Doing too much.

The second server is younger and shorter,

Maybe not necessarily

Influencing the proceeding course of action, but

Maybe making it worse for all parties involved.

Did you clean the bathrooms he asks the first.

I am not your wife she says I know

I’m black like her but I’m not her.

Cook steps in.

Please not on the floor okay?

Shorter guy stands agape.

I’m taking the trash out and I’m leaving

The first says.

Cook goes to the short waiter.

I was just asking a fucking question he says.

The cook is older and

Knows how to talk

Without anyone hearing him.

Now, I don’t know much but

I can see how this situation could easily be demeaning

And besides what business does a waiter have

Scrubbing the bathroom anyhow.

Buncha kids, man. Buncha damn kids rounds here.

Cook says.

He puts on a hoodie and leaves.

Another cook checks me out.

Sorry about all that she says.

It don’t bother me none I say.