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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