#waitress
The last customer left an hour ago.
She wipes the same table three times.
Coffee stains remember everything.
She doesn’t.
Outside, a taxi idles.
The driver sleeps with his mouth open.
She counts tips.
Three euros.
One wrinkled note.
Someone wrote a phone number on it.
She won’t call.
The jukebox is off.
But she hears music anyway—
the hum of the refrigerator,
the drip of the sink,
her own breathing.
At 4 AM, the baker arrives.
They nod.
He brings bread.
She pours coffee.
No words.
This is love, she thinks.
The kind that shows up with warm bread
when the world is asleep.
Morning comes slow.
She turns the sign.
Now open.
The first customer will not know
she has been here all night.
He will order coffee.
She will serve it.
He will leave.
She will wipe the table.
May 2
May 2, 2026 at 12:28 PM UTC
Her hands were busy making coffee
The cafe her home as much as her work place
Idle hands is a disastrous plan
Time unproductive is time wasted
This much, she understands
She is ever efficient in the kitchen
Wash, dry, put away, organise
A worker's favourite routine memorised
Her hands are making coffee for a patron
They take the coffee without saying hi
The honest hard work of the waitress
Gets ignored time after time
Sep 21, 2021
Sep 21, 2021 at 10:21 PM UTC
I fell in love with a customer
Something about him
Attracted me
I wasn't interested in anyone else
Other than him
We got along
We hang out often
He came down whenever i end my shift early
We were like couples
But we weren't
I fell deeply for him
But he wasnt keen on being with me
Why , i wonder.
Is it because im a waitress?
And he's a customer?
Why was my love not strong enough
To make him stay?
If he liked me,
Why did he chose someone else?
Maybe im just foolish
To think
A waitress
Could end up with a customer
Maybe i was the only one
That believed in this foolish love
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 10:11 PM UTC
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.
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 12:14 PM UTC
I'm that waitress
Every guy wants to be served by
Wants to talk to
Wants to bring out on a date
I'm that waitress
Guys would want to hit on
Want to bring back home
Want to take advantage of
Sadly that's all I'll ever be
A waitress they want to get laid by
Maybe someday
One day
There will be a guy
That will say
She's that waitress
I would want to marry
And have my future with
Maybe one day
I'd be a waitress
That people would view with good intentions
Dec 6, 2019
Dec 6, 2019 at 1:42 PM UTC
When a housekeeper pours her heart into her work, making your home Clean and shining,
Say thank- you!
When a waitress greets you with a warm smile, and tries her best to Provide you a quality service,
Say thank- you!
When a mailman struggles to deliver your mail, fighting through Challenging weather,
Say thank-you!
Make others feel valued,
Express your gratitude,
Lighten their day with words of appreciation,
Embrace them with humanity, and treat them with kindness!
Hussein Dekmak
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC
You caught my eye but once,
You caught me eye but twice,
Then popped them in a cocktail glass,
And topped it up with ice.
Vermouth you added first,
And then a shot of gin,
A squeeze of lime, a dash of tea,
With salt around the rim.
‘One martini coming up!’ you drawled,
You slid it down the bar,
And so returned my eyes to me,
Like olives from a jar.
To those who swear that love is blind,
You've surely never been,
The subject of a stolen glance,
From a waitress called Nadine.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC
She's me
chat that
back her
stack as
eyes gleam
and conglomerate
of ceramic
taste that
steal the
heart away
for cause
of now
that mayn't
bring her
down to
this gloomy
bile of
pancakes grief
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 9:42 AM UTC
I pray for the day.
adults think about what they eat
to fuel their sacred form.
When children ask for salad
instead of fried chicken fingers
and fries drenched in oil that clog intestines.
I pray for the day,
young and old choose to go organic
and stop frequenting fast fake food joints
When people awaken to foods causing Alzheimer's.
and stop adding to cholesterol count
by changing their diet.
I pray for day soda is no longer offered
as in truth its a great metal cleaning fluid.
When family members
put away cell phones and lab tops
to become a family again.
Yes I pray for the day,
of a decent tip
so... I say nothing and serve,
praying for the day.
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC
Minute by minute
hour by hour
the angry swells so heavy
I'm about to pass out
and i want to never wake up.
Lost and confused trying to find myself again
So I pick up a pen and spill the ink
Black is what I see and what I bleed
Joy is a mystery that I can't seem to grasp
losing hope and faith
is it you or is it me?
Was this even meant to be?
You stole my identity and said you were my friend.
Ripped out of my arms, whispering goodbye.
And the hole widens with anger and spite.
Why doesn't this feel right?
This was suppose to be my chance, my dream!
To show the world that I am enough,
that I'm real and I feel!
This depression and stress, I want it to rest.
I need it to rest.
Why do i keep feeling like I'm not enough?
Is it you or is it me?
God, can you hear me scream?
I don't know what to do, I'm dazed and confused.
Chasing the dragon in the bathroom at work,
my only source of peace, my fake fidelity.
Sticking needles in places scars used to be.
Once healed, now marking its territory.
Again and again, how longer will I bend,
How longer will I need to prove myself?
How much longer will I come second place?
Where is your faith and why do I seek your approval?
I keep blaming you, but is it me?
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
Hello, Waitress in the sky
So long her fear to fly
She throws the world a smile
bats her eyes in a wink she's gone
hurling through the clouds
calming others through turbulence
**** the corporate scene
Type A personalities acting mean
humiliating her in a board meeting
so she trades blue for green
Goodbye Waitress in the sky
trade her wings for a diamond ring
So long her need for speed
racing on the runway
She was flying with the birds but now
she's swimming with the fishes
Deflated dreams of broadening horizons
a-popped balloon and a rolling stone
nowhere to go but everywhere
Oh Lord, she won't get the answer tonight
Oh sky, give her the strength to fly
Oh Queen, find her a smart place to run
and that's why she took US 66 for a drive
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
Yes I'm a waitress-
Which doesn't mean I'm dumb
People skills are declining in need
But still you all come
I'm here 40 hours a week
Clean the restaurant before I start
Some days I feel ok
Most days I've a broken heart
Even though I'm cracked inside
And my fake smile wants to frown
I'll give a night you'll never forget
Face painted like a clown
You have no idea
in your one hour break
Or your 30th birthday
Which I will make great
That just last night
I received bad news
But I have to work still
I don't get to choose
I'm dying inside
but you'd never guess
Smiling my head off
Though my hearts in a mess
So next time you come
and I'm not the best you've had
Just remember I'm human
And I'm losing my dad
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 3:20 AM UTC
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.
Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
I like the nastiest bars,
Those where the waitress is called names
But she doesn't care 'cause she's too kind
And tries to keep it all clean for 400 a month.
Those bars have drama
Whole worlds and stories continuosly entangling,
Whisky on rocks, vomits and shouts
Here comes Rita the waitress to clean it all again;
Dogs bark in the streets
Women cry in their beds as men get drunk
And kick the innocent trash can over a discussion about gibberish.
The loner cat lurks the street at night
Hunting for hamburgers that fell off the trash can,
The drunk men start a fight,
'Here comes the police!' 'Run-run!'
One falls, gets the blame and a free trip to county jail,
Three others join a party and feed the ******
Money and **** --- tails.
Finally, the last one goes home
To beat the crying wife over the same junk
And the repressed anger only a coward can hide.
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 7:52 PM UTC
8/12/2016
a single space and two bodies
you are drawn to the same air as i
but only (and only) sometimes
i wait for the message
that says "hello beautiful"
sift through the crowds to reach you for "goodbye"
and those days always come and go
when they're here, they're here
when i have nothing to show for myself
i can't stand to be next to a mirror
picking apart all the things you say you love about me
up and awake wondering when you'll set your sights on a new shiny distraction
i don't believe in putting a padlock on handcuffs and swallowing the key
nothing gold can stay
yet my mouth waters at the thought of pulling you in
but this place is a social experiment
where you and i can be whoever you want
i am a social chameleon
adjusting to whichever patterns and personalities fit my surroundings
believer and doubter
but the light and darkness aren't ambiguous
just the shadows between
and that's where we'll be
if you let me
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 3:30 PM UTC
8/27/16
you flirt with me innocently through a receipt
my last night at here
and for the last three months i tried to justify the casual verbal and physical ****** harassment that was happening before me - to me
because he was easy on the eyes
and he dressed up ***** words to make them sound poetic and pretty
and anything but romantic
nobody had to ask why i was leaving because i didn't tell anyone except for the managers - all but one
the one who is known for this pattern of taking us naïve girls to the beer cooler in the back
to do anything but what was gentlemanly
and i ate up every single line like they were candy hearts
because he made my head blow up like a balloon
he's in there now
smiling like nothing's wrong
and when it's blatantly obvious that everything about what he does is so wrong - even illegal - that's what merits a "what's wrong"
and i don't know why i still love you
because you haven't once attempted any of the things you said you would
you've just pulled me so fearlessly close that i have to get as far away as possible because the "l" word scares me
and you would rather her than i
and you're caged up in the same home as someone you probably have to share a bed with even though you don't want to
you blame it all on the way your parents raised you
and the nightmare your mother had
meanwhile i would've cared for you relentlessly
and i do?
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 3:27 PM UTC
Standing on the sidewalk
Hearing all the back talk
Watching while they cakewalk
Wonderin’ how I got here.
Step behind the bar table
Fool yourself if you are able
Tell yourself this ain’t no stable
And them ain’t dumb animals.
Start a conversation
End it in frustration
Why the aggravation
You know ********* can’t talk.
Turn into a pill head
Drop ‘em til you see red
Wish that you could be dead
Or anywhere but here.
<<>>
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 11:17 AM UTC
A well-rehearsed dance,
the waltzing waitress tosses The Times
on table 1 as if she’ll actually finish
the Sunday crossword this morning.
She won’t.
Grease lined lights flicker on one
by one.
Like spotlights on a stage.
It’s show time.
Twostepping while taking down chairs,
she flows to the rhythm of ritual,
across a worn checkered dancefloor.
No applause.
In a dining room of Astaire’s and Rogers
she is the coffee choreographer.
Pirouetting to the ***
then a sidestep, quick! Quick!
Slow.
Warming up now, she stretches.
Switching on the metal machinery.
It grinds and growls as if it prefers
decaf.
Rings from rusted bells
hanging from the door chime
to the beat. This is her
cue.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 10:09 AM UTC
Life flows through the doors,
Dispersed by the ceiling fan,
A makeover for every patron,
The waitress serves a second chance.
Ex-husband but current parent,
Negotiating with a teenage daughter,
Two untouched lunch plates,
As the gap grows further and further.
Central focus being on a book cover,
Held by an E.R nurse still in her scrubs,
The waitress tries to decipher a meaning,
All while wiping leftovers from table tops.
The calender on the wall says Friday,
And in walks a sundress along with a button down,
Two steaks and a red rose,
Right up comes the waitress with a dinner to astound.
Beginnings and ends in motion,
The clock cues for the 40-something man,
In the far corner he sips his black coffee,
Forlorn eyes of a widow staring at a wedding band.
Wiping beads of sweat from her forehead,
Retying her hair into a secured knot,
Exhaustion slowly kicking in,
As she refills the coffee ***
The college girl strolling in with her book bag,
Smiles with pity at her as she gives her order,
She thinks of how her minimum wage must look,
But her love for her job makes her smile never falter.
Days are something treasured,
Every hour, a different movie plays,
She collects all those stories,
With the tip left after the customer pays.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
Do you realize
the impact you have
on those around you?
The smile you gave
that waitress filling coffee
changed her perspective.
The young boy
that looks up to you
shapes his life after yours.
The pastor who watched
you grow up
finds purpose.
The friend you met
at summer camp
smiles remembering.
The song you wrote
alone in your room
is someone's anthem.
That speech you gave
for extra credit
broke someone's addiction.
The time you prayed
for an impartation
empowered her to speak.
You don't realize
the effect you have
on everyone around you.
Don't dare
give up
on them.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
A waitress takes the late night bus home,
Counts all the people on the bus but there are none.
She gets off five stops early to walk,
She hears nothing.
On the avenue a black cat chases a moth
But does not catch it.
A man throws a shoe at the cat,
Yells obscenities across the alley,
Then falls back asleep.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
an angry argument thrown at an opponent as arrows shoot across the battlefield over an expensive bottle of Cabernet.
walls and borders mapped out in thick pencil lines, they hastily marked their territory before it all drowned in earthy blood-red.
Fresh pepper, sir?
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC