Is Alright Everything Here?

The customer wasn't sure which of them was doing the other, the waitress or her job... the words "thank you" had stopped saying her and lousy service gave her to every table that waited on her all because a terrible tip got her written on a creditcard slip which took her to the customer whom the tip slowly erased using a ballpoint pen, then the credit card got the customer out of his wallet and took the waitress (who came by the table so he signaled her from across the room) to the computer which typed into her the amount they were going to pay the customer to produce his dinner, augmented by bones and lemonrind which at that moment used a hose to suck the dishwasher from the sink onto a plate which set him into a bustub which took him out to the waitress whose hands flew into the plate which took her to the customer whom the dinner then assembled in his stomach and mouth and set onto his plate with his fork while his waterglass emptied her into a pitcher, his ashtray replaced her with a dirty one, and the oily fingerprints removed the customer from the wineglass so it would have to smudge her later with her polishing cloth, so that a good waitress was her after rude was this customer to her so that the dinner, which finished him and took her to the kitchen, would take a long time separating the cooks into their constituent ingredients, and he waited an hour before his order took her but by then the lousy tip and rude behavior had forgotten her, remembering her with optomism, and for months beforeward peppermill before peppermill carried her from table before table and ground her all over the customers salads.

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© 1996-2006
Dominique Fitzpatrick-O'Dinn
Spineless Books