one day, i went into a busy restaurant.
waiters bustled,
the kitchen staff hustled,
and the costumers flooded in,
faster than a hoard of bull.
the waiters,
their faces were torn,
their hair was messy,
and their cheeks were red.
if i were them,
i would've never gotten out of bed,
because they have to deal with so much,
disappearing eaters,
below average wage,
the heat of the grill,
they are the fighters.
they are the definition,
of a poor college student,
with a low paying job.
this one man,
he was very nice,
he told me all about his pain
his strife,
all his
sacrifice.
it was eye-opening.

but boy,
did i feel that same pain,
when i
left that very restaurant
drenched
in
water.
all over my hair,
my clothes,
soggy in my shoes.
so no matter what,
always appreciate those
behind the counter.

~mine: dedicated to those waiters and waitresses in Steak & Shake