Work Dream of a Waitress

It was somebody’s birthday. Balloons on the floor

“We need more balloons!” so I had to blow more

I flambéed the cake with a tad too much booze

“A major mistake!” cried a dad, not sure whose

I scanned my surroundings and found all around me

A gaggle of mouths to feed hounding me loudly

In roaring discordance, the amateur chorus

Implored me to “Go get the manager for us!”

A lot of the staff had just left for the day

With not even half of the day underway

Including a dude we all knew by a name

Admittedly rude but it fit all the same

My boss, Handsy Dan, was a fan of my butt

When I dodged his advances my hours were cut

If you ask any waitress she’ll surely assert:

The dastardly waist-frisk—as common as dirt

Alone against picky, ridiculous patrons

My only defense was some tricks from my apron

An infinite napkin was not what they wanted

"Do you happen to know if the restaurant is haunted?"

So I bellowed the Ballad of Billy O’Dear

A helluva ballad, too long to quote here

The core of the story is Billy, our host

Who was horribly killed and so now he’s a ghost

By the time I had thought up and hashed out my fable

The children had got up and dashed from the table

The vaulted eyebrows of the patrons remaining

Recalled only now how the plate was still flaming

While fire exposure makes cakes quite inedible

The smiling composure I faked was incredible

Neglecting the shreds of my own self-respect

I expressed my regret and collected the check

Though the total I served was discounted severely

They balked at my nerve and walked out cavalierly

The exit sign beckoned, and, tempted to flee

I dreamt for a second...but rent isn’t free

For the sake of the paycheck I stayed on the grind

But I needed a break or I’d vacate my mind

With a toad in my throat where I'd swallowed my pride

I strode to the coat check and tiptoed inside

And there in the place where the jackets were kept

I buried my face in the rack and just wept

While crying my heart out I also released

The fart I’d held in for an hour at least

I've never been one to get tearful and pray

But whoever's up there got an earful that day

***

I hoped I had weathered the worst of humanity

But nope, I was headed for further insanity

Some businessmen seeming exceedingly bored

I greeted them sweetly, completely ignored

Alas, I came back with some water and bread

My ass or my rack—“Which is hotter?” they said

Suppressing displeasure I awkwardly waited

While my measure of hotness was hotly debated

While the guys were high-fiving I wondered in vain

Why simply surviving involved so much pain

Despondent, I squeaked, “Can I bring you some drinks?”

They responded in shrieks: “What the [bleep] do you think?!”

The heathens proceeded to order a mix

Of impossible cocktails nobody can fix

"I'll have a pineapple split into two

Infuse it with wine and some fresh mountain dew"

"Fetch me a bull's horn and hollow it out

Fill it with ketchup and some sauerkraut"

One of the cocktails was not one at all

But a walk in the woods in the middle of Fall

The forest was dark, and peaceful, and quiet

There was a ravine there, I rested beside it