Waiter’s Journal: Friday, 6:47pm
There’s food up in alley, but no one has time to walk it.
This restaurant’s afraid of me, I’ve seen its true face. The front of house is an extended gutter and the gutter’s full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown.
The accumulated filth of their demands for extra cheese biscuits and hot water with lemon will foam up about their waists and all the guests and their screaming children will look up at me and shout "Is this gluten free?"
..and I'll stare down and whisper "no."
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