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#waiter
I will be your waiter today, would you like something to drink? In fact, you don't even need to pay, I'll give you more than you can think. All you have to do is be pleased, and I'll feel the work is done. My own hunger stays uneased, yet still I serve one by one.
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Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 4:15 AM UTC
A People-Pleaser's Table
That's me what I'm now, my life is certain. You'll call me, and I'll say: 'Hello, I'll call later.’ You'll answer: 'OK. I got it. No problem.' And I'll left with a guilt that you're a waiter. The time will trip forth, to feelings athwart. And you'll await for my call all the same. My answer to you is my heavy load now, My refusal words and short tones after them... And you'll await for my call until last, Until your last profound sigh. If I could turn all things around, I'll call you back after a while... Forgive me...
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Jul 29, 2025
Jul 29, 2025 at 5:40 PM UTC
Forgive me...
Who am I in this vast, open earth of different species A species of the human race created from a clot of blood in the womb of a woman One of a billion or more humans all created in the same way But why was I created, what is my purpose on this vast earth For surely nothing was created without purpose, otherwise why create at all? So I was born in a hospital somewhere and there was happiness all around upon my arrival. A new addition to the family someone to carry on the family name I came into this world crying and all around me people were laughing with joy If my arrival brought happiness why was I crying so much? And so begs the question who am I and why was I created? Like all humans, I was given a name to identify and make me unique. Different cultures have different ways and different ceremonies to name their newborns. But how come of all the species on this earth only human beings have names Why don't animals, birds, insects who also produce offspring don't give names So why was I created and what is my purpose on this earth? I am still trying to find that out, just like a billion other human beings After all, it cannot be that we were just put here on this earth Everything that is here was put here for a purpose, a reason I am sitting at a roadside café relishing the taste of freshly brewed coffee. The waiter who brings me my coffee and croissants knows why he is there To ensure the food and drinks I have ordered get to me on time The right things are delivered to the right people at the right time I also know why I am at the roadside café sipping hot coffee and enjoying hot delicious croissants. I am searching for the answer to my lifelong question Who am I? I gaze deeply into my coffee, hoping to find the answer there But all I see is a hot brown liquid with a fresh sensory smell
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May 26, 2025
May 26, 2025 at 7:03 AM UTC
Who Am I
Who am I in this vast, open earth of different species A species of the human race created from a clot of blood in the womb of a woman One of a billion or more humans all created in the same way But why was I created, what is my purpose on this vast earth For surely nothing was created without purpose, otherwise why create at all? So I was born in a hospital somewhere and there was happiness all around upon my arrival. A new addition to the family someone to carry on the family name I came into this world crying and all around me people were laughing with joy If my arrival brought happiness why was I crying so much? And so begs the question who am I and why was I created? Like all humans, I was given a name to identify and make me unique. Different cultures have different ways and different ceremonies to name their newborns. But how come of all the species on this earth only human beings have names Why don't animals, birds, insects who also produce offspring don't give names So why was I created and what is my purpose on this earth? I am still trying to find that out, just like a billion other human beings After all, it cannot be that we were just put here on this earth Everything that is here was put here for a purpose, a reason I am sitting at a roadside café relishing the taste of freshly brewed coffee. The waiter who brings me my coffee and croissants knows why he is there To ensure the food and drinks I have ordered get to me on time The right things are delivered to the right people at the right time I also know why I am at the roadside café sipping hot coffee and enjoying hot delicious croissants. I am searching for the answer to my lifelong question Who am I? I gaze deeply into my coffee, hoping to find the answer there But all I see is a hot brown liquid with a fresh sensory smell
Continue reading...
27
Shaking the grains of salt like rain over my fries I bite into a burger of my free order and find a sizzling fly You may laugh but it’s a little rough when dandruff is white icing on a blueberry pie A free meal is a risky deal and I tell you no lie once I found there a metre hair I choke and nearly die I pull up to the counter complain to the waiter who couldn’t give a jack just a dingy diner at the mall with free meals and worse of all you can’t ask for money back
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Mar 20, 2022
Mar 20, 2022 at 4:44 PM UTC
A free meal
To be loved when its not convinient To be loved for the hand gestures made when i talk about the netflix show i just got into To be loved for the way i part my hair To be loved for making a joke with the waiter To be loved for taking the long route to get you a coffee To be loved for being vulnerable Oh to be loved for the smallest things and the big ones blindly.
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Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 12:34 PM UTC
To be loved
I got this job because I was seventeen Available everyday at three In debt with a man after I went clean My boss at the time was thirty six with a goatee Five dollars an hour plus tip, you see It was fine for me. I met the others standing by the kitchen line All of them with the same look in their eye Lying to family and friends saying, financially, their fine Getting nothing on a tip and never knowing why Yet they return the next day to serve white wine Looking around I see all of us wanted more But I’m in debt and you have to pay the rent Do it all in one day and go home to a son that’s four Under the thumb of an old vice president The roof over the kitchen is about to cave in And we watch with silent eyes Because our uniforms are being held with safety pins Promised new ones but Corporate lies And when the bubble in the ceiling pops We’ll be by the dumpsters flicking cigarettes on the road While the greedy pigs come in drawing lots Waiting for the gas stove to explode Paid vacation sounds lovely Been here every week for the past year Sometimes I’m called to come in early Pick up the broken glass from lunch rush beer The people come in Angry as they usually are Now the glares don’t even touch my skin It makes me laugh how many nasty people sit at the bar The high-class families who come in for din It’s been eight hours and six years Since we started our shift Staying here for three more is the biggest fear But we’re already ****** We’ve been here for long we know this career What else am I supposed to know Other than how to make dough It’s been a long night You can see it in the height Of cigarette buts by the dumpster Where we can freely talk about the customer It’s a busy life Feels like we’re running out of time To get out and ignore the strife But there are times when the tips make us feel sublime And we can buy a warm meal Cause maybe it will heal These aching muscles That come from a constant hustle Don’t you see why they say At the end of the day We need an ashtray.
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Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 12:14 PM UTC
Day In The Life Of A Waitress
I got this job because I was seventeen Available everyday at three In debt with a man after I went clean My boss at the time was thirty six with a goatee Five dollars an hour plus tip, you see It was fine for me. I met the others standing by the kitchen line All of them with the same look in their eye Lying to family and friends saying, financially, their fine Getting nothing on a tip and never knowing why Yet they return the next day to serve white wine Looking around I see all of us wanted more But I’m in debt and you have to pay the rent Do it all in one day and go home to a son that’s four Under the thumb of an old vice president The roof over the kitchen is about to cave in And we watch with silent eyes Because our uniforms are being held with safety pins Promised new ones but Corporate lies And when the bubble in the ceiling pops We’ll be by the dumpsters flicking cigarettes on the road While the greedy pigs come in drawing lots Waiting for the gas stove to explode Paid vacation sounds lovely Been here every week for the past year Sometimes I’m called to come in early Pick up the broken glass from lunch rush beer The people come in Angry as they usually are Now the glares don’t even touch my skin It makes me laugh how many nasty people sit at the bar The high-class families who come in for din It’s been eight hours and six years Since we started our shift Staying here for three more is the biggest fear But we’re already ****** We’ve been here for long we know this career What else am I supposed to know Other than how to make dough It’s been a long night You can see it in the height Of cigarette buts by the dumpster Where we can freely talk about the customer It’s a busy life Feels like we’re running out of time To get out and ignore the strife But there are times when the tips make us feel sublime And we can buy a warm meal Cause maybe it will heal These aching muscles That come from a constant hustle Don’t you see why they say At the end of the day We need an ashtray.
Continue reading...
54
you know what's creepy about humpty dumpty? they never said it was an egg don't you dare sounds normal, but do not you dare sounds weird envelopes are strange. its like here's a paper wrapped in paper that i sealed with my saliva butter is food lotion when you wait for the waiter you are the waiter How much pain do I have go though until giving up is okay?
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Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 10:37 PM UTC
darkness questions
… not yet … Wait until you’re called! … why are you fidgeting?! … Be patient! … almost …
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
Waiter
*she dragged me out of the house knowing i was feeling down not allowing me to wallow in my self pity, she dressed me,         painted my face                fashioned my hair, that’s my girl friend at Juliana’s, small family owned Italian restaurant, a gem of a find, she said, Lorenzo, greeted her with familiarity (she leaves a memorable impression) she introduced me as her bestie with a twinkle in her eye young (as all under 30 people are to me) handsome, dark thick curly haired, with dancing eyes, a serving towel over his left arm nodded with a genuine smile i smiled back despite my mood wine was swirled, smelled, sampled and selected a captivating performance, executed expertly she watched me watching him describe the specials   with a melodic Italian accent transforming my mood garlic knots wafting with his stride, placed on the table with a small bowl of marinara sauce still hovering in his long lean fingers it slipped, splattering red stain on the pristine white cloth without skipping a beat his eyes poured into mine words emerged “forgive me, your beauty made me nervous”*
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Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 8:34 AM UTC
the waiter
The kid with the beard and the ***** apron, he's just trying to make it. His shoes have small tears on the sides, from the way water saturates and weakens the material. He’s got this way of gliding from table to table, the same way a dancer owns a stage. He slides plates of salt-ridden tacos currently in vogue to a roomful of overfed, undersexed office drones A woman in a skirt and flip-flops rolls her eyes at a salad. A ********* in a blazer flicks a ****** under the table. Still, there's a twinkle in the kid’s eyes, like he's on the make. If the right circumstances unfold he’d snag a loose twenty from a wallet or a purse. This is the server's life, always under the thumb, hated and stressed, but always laughing at the end of each shift.
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Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
On the Make
My uniforms the same color as the napkins My shoes are all covered in muck The knife goes on the right side of the plate facing in I'm starting to not give a **** There's gum on the bottom of the tables The foreigners tip me in dimes This place is a ghost town on lunch shifts So I sit at the bar cutting limes If this double shift doesn't end soon And the manager asks me to close It's 4 am be back in 6 hours Mid day ghost town doing fold ups and rolls Does the steak best pair with the red or the white? Do I look like one who tends to fine dine? I'll just make some **** up to impress for a tip And pray to God Facebook thinks I'm doing fine I am NOT doing fine
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Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Fold Ups and Rolls
Understanding is something that comes from the daunting reminder that we are all the same and it's not happiness but the disheveled, underpaid, antagonizing waiter who launders around tables. Being treated poorly by people that can't even take the hands of time to read the name of a person that serves them life the succulent roasted pork with a side salad or a bowl of broccoli soup have more in common with our suffering waiter than the illiterate people.
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC
Waiter Waiter
You need to know something -- I cant wait forever I can serve food But I'm not a waiter I am a human I get bored too Waiting for someone Uncertain, like you You say you're scared But am I not too? If you really want it, You'd take a risk or two Take a risk in me Take a risk with me Let's see what we got If it's worth a shot I've been waiting for you For what seems like forever I can't keep running back When you call me whenever I know I've said bye A million of times But this one would be The very last time
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 9:04 AM UTC
The Waiting Game 1/14/16
Have you ever seen it rain cats and dogs How about a dumb bell or dumb waiter Or a road runner Have you ever seen a blue whale Maybe he's just depressed How about a stool pigeon Or is it a pigeon stool I have seen a mocking bird They are loud , obnoxious , and on my Mailbox they leave . . . (rhymes with words) Bobby pin A temporary permanent How about a hot plate , yeah me too ! Or a cat on a hot tin roof A mega phone (probably not portable) Or walk down the up escalator A bat out of Hell Naw , I prefer fried chicken fingers
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC
Have You Ever Seen It Rain Cats and Dogs