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ashley lingy Nov 2018
Sometimes I wonder
if the dollar that paid for my soda
was ever in a strippers underwear.
And then...I wonder
if the cashier is ever thinking the same thing.
Amber K Feb 2018
"Hello, how are you?"
I say in a voice I can't believe is mine.
I hate it so much.
It's become like nails on a chalkboard to my ears.

I ask the human in front of me,
"What can I get you today?"
They ignore me.
Finally someone approaches.

It's an older lady,
gray bushy hair with wild eyes.
I smile and begin to take her order.
She begins to make rude remarks towards me.

She leaves,
someone else approaches.
It's a man angry about a price I did not set.
He takes it out on me.

I take all of the verbal punches.
From people who have had their worst days,
to people who are just too privileged to give a little kindness,
I smile through it all.

I don't really think anyone who walks in,
really sees me as a human being.
They don't see that I fight social anxiety for a living,
or that I go through things too.

They don't care.
They don't want to care.
When they ask how I am,
they don't want an honest answer.

I wonder if they would smile,
or compliment me instead of insulting me,
if I weren't standing behind a counter,
taking orders and giving change.
Working with the public is rough. I've had the job I  have right now for awhile and everyday I am still shocked at how customers (and bosses) treat workers at restaurants. I try to smile and be kind to every customer service worker I ever come in contact with, because it can definitely get to you if you have people insulting you or treating you like **** from 7 in the morning until 3 in the evening.
dalton Jul 2017
Around 8:00 pm, I arrive
Post workout, sweat dried head
I drag myself to the counter and said my order

However, this time, was quite unlike any other
I tried to conjure a line that would strike up a conversation
But I'm too shy of a guy
So naturally, I began my evasion

My brain forces a fire inside
Because her eyes are sapphires
Dying for my supply of a vanity high

I'm just aiming to seem connected, corrected
So I selected my words with too much thought
And all I could collect was
"Your eyes are so beautiful"
Kagey Sage Sep 2014
Machine ground days
Somehow survived by clinging to precarious plans
Die for those.
For proles are stuck in a televised gleam
but I’m barred from distractions
I’m a man of action
Spring healing:
I found a new hope to get through the day
It has a name and it’s you

Workday: animistic curses
against people and their systems and products
except animals would escape forever
as soon as they open the cage
but we stay

The beastly gnashings of overworked merchandisers
for invisible self pocket stuffers
The competition's getting to us, comrades
I feel swindled out of my labor
I was pregnant
but they sold my child before
I woke up

Addressing the solipsism of my rehab circle:

I’m Kagey, and my life is hazy
but, blunted or no, let’s get this clear:
don’t trust your senses
and that goes for all my human peers

Body is a cage full of defenses
Still, I’m suspicious of reality
whether it’s façade society
or the wooden chair in front of me

Still, I enjoy the virtual scenery
I ain’t talking about on the T.V. or phone screen
I mean the willows, buildings, and faces
But all these mushy green acres are fakers
blobs without our eyesight

Still tho,
me and the universe are tight.
Found these papers from over a year ago. Glad to be out of retail, but my solidarity's still there.
Louise Leger Mar 2014
The entitled ones:

Snotty, stuck up, rude

Nasty, spoiled prudes

Your misery, their fun



Loosen up your buns, entitled ones

‘Cause I am in no mood

To harbor your attitude

And snooty snippy sayings sung



The desk between us that which divides

Does not right you to be snide

Entitled ones need not apply

Entitled are entitled nigh



The ones who earn entitlement

Are the ones who give respect

Possessors of this enlightenment

Such respect is what they’ll get



Treat your servers as you will with such level of pomposity

But understand that I abide by way of reciprocity

— The End —