Saturday, April 27, 2013

Poems: Just Smile

Don't just conclude, when I smile at you, means I need something from you, 
something I don't want, won't take, won't let break my ways. 
I just want to smile, okay?
Can't you just smile back?
What pity this world, to have such grief on their shoulders,
that a simple smile is too hard to mull over,
at a passing stranger, could that be such a danger?
What a world, all frowns, dragging us down to the ground.
A bed of dirt we have made from the tragedies we crave.
Such a harsh sign of anger, to not smile at a stranger.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Poems: Bittersweet

This ol' truck's resigned. So I need a new ride.
That 2.2 Liter engine needs serious attention.
Need somethin that ain't charred. Some wheels to push hard.
That divine chemistry does a number on me, what a sweet melody. 
Like the sound of music, I come alive when I'm cruisin.

I just want a silverado, to travel to eldorado.
Where I'll meet a magician, I'll keep in my kitchen,
Till he grants me two wishes and scratches my itches.
Get a big ass old truck, romp around in the muck,
then we'll swim to the shire and build an empire.
We're smokin' the tires and igniting the fires.

Then I woke up to some change in a cup.
I'll have to go cheaper, and find me a keeper.
I'll get me a blazer to travel through nature.
To and from campus where I learn to paint canvas.
That 4.3 Liter Engine, gives me more to mention,
as I fly off the streets and run from police.

Till one day I'm riding alone, on my way home, to get ready for work, surrounded by jerks. 
A magical creature appears from the speaker, with heavenly features and explains the procedures. Just climb up the steps and pay your respects at the pearly white gates and ask for the weights, place them on the scale so God may avail. I climb up the steps and await the consent.

Unexpectedly, we're back at the scene, the bitch behind me clipped my new SUV. 
Three flips in my ride, land on the wrong side
I crawl out the space, that just defaced
my driver door window and my screams just bellowed.
No words in my brain to describe all the pain.
I'm so fucking devoid of that last bit of joy I had driving my toy.

My life's up in flames as I'm screaming in vain.
I hear her telling lies as she tries to deny why her hooptie collided with mine.
The medics encage me but I won't let them take me.
Not a mark on my skin, all the pain is within.
I wish God had taken me in.

Now, I'm cooped up in a Camry and I feel just like bambi,
Till the settlement check pays for my rent 
and finances the debt I'll never regret.
A big white shiny new truck. Never needing to give a fuck.
That 5.3 liter engine sounds just like heaven.
She's got all the bells and whistles and the power of a missile.

Then the bills settle in, it's all getting grim. 
The gluttony with my money made me buy a new heap
and now im imprisoned inside a white sheep that claims it's a jeep.
Oh, it's so bittersweet.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Poems: Confessions of a Service Advisor

I fear therein the skin I'm in has grown thin.
I can't muster up the willpower to win.
People surround me in this horrible place.
All glued to the paper in this financial race.
Who wins in the end?
Will we ever see glory?
Battle with no blood shed, doesn't mean allegory.
I just realized, they blinded my eyes, I was hypnotized.
But still I must fight for the dying night light inside my camp site.
A couple grand I must take, so my checks in the bank 
can pay for the meal that sits on my plate.

Sir, your car shit the bed. 
You will need new heads, but first let me warn you our tech's a crackhead.
The car you drove in is already in route, he took it and stole it.
It's getting cleaned out.
I could get it back. Fifty grand to buy out.
And we know you have the paper,
just your bentley could buy me ten acres,
a farm and a vineyard, a brand spankin new bank card 
with a pin I could discard, and a saint bernard, on my boulevard
that could check your ID card, when you drop your guard, 
to throw shards in my avant-garde front yard.

Visa or Mastercard?
All up to you, but your american express card just won't do.
We can't afford to give those miles to you.
So go home to your wife and cry about life, stab your maid with a knife. I feel for your strife.
The food on my plate is still worth the debate.
I work for a man with a pension plan, who can't understand why I need a floor plan.
He has no kids and a truck as big as your bad luck who refuses to pay
to hear what I have to say, since I cannot bespeak, I'm here six days a week.
Call when you decide if that coupe's worth the ride.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Alive again

I've made some real progress in my life. I'm back to feeling alive again. Back to feeling like I can take on the world, and back to giving a crap about everything! WOW. Imagine what you would feel like if you knew the one thing in the world that would destroy your motivation and you made the necessary changes to remove this from your life? That is what a desk job does for me, sucks away all my motivation and all my energy. Now, don't get me wrong, I am definitely one who can sit on my computer for hours at a time drawing or amusing myself on Pinterest, but working in a chair, at a desk, with a computer in front of me and the phone ringing non stop and needing to be at my desk to help you and answer your questions is just no life for me. 

That smile that you see on my face is for real now! 

It's definitely a little bittersweet. I can't help but want to talk to you about your car and ask you a million questions about it. I'm just really glad I don't have to sell you anything for it anymore, cuz you turn into a jerk when you have to spend money on it. 

So now I'm working at a very busy restaurant. I love it. I'm a hostess and it's just insanity, we're always busy, always running around like fools with our heads cut off and just basking in the lunacy.... ok wait... maybe it's just me. I love every second of the manic stampedes of crowds that tromp through the door. It certainly doesn't fulfill my craving to see your car and touch your car and talk to you about your car, but the pace of it all keeps my mind off those desires. It almost brings a serene silence to my mind as I'm rushing around setting up tables and telling people "no, thats not your table", "you can't seat yourself, go to the host stand", "we're quoting about 3 hours right now for a table" and my favorite, "yes, you definitely can pay not to wait" but don't offer me a $5, make it worth my time, $50 sounds about good. 

I'm not saying I don't get frustrated with your stupid questions and you thinking that since you see an open table it must be yours, and our 3 hour wait must be bogus, of course I get frustrated, and maybe even a little bitchy, but that's just cuz I have to repeat that same explanation over and over to 600+ guests in a 5 hour period. Don't walk in immediately bitching, your service will suck and you will sit in bird shit. And it's not like I can make the birds shit, they aren't little remote control birds, and I'm definitely not the one throwing food on the floor here. I mean come on people. Karma will always find you.

I don't know if you're aware of this but basically if a restaurant is quoting 3 hours that means the WHOLE ENTIRE restaurant will get sat about two times before you get a table. In my particular situation, that means... with 80 tables in the restaurant averaging 4 people per table which equals about... 320 people to seat BEFORE YOU!!! 320 other HUMAN BEINGS that are just as hungry as you are, with the same or more problems as you're experiencing came in earlier and planned better than you. Sorry about your luck, here's your bird shit. Uh buh bye. 

I've also learned how amazingly selfish most people are. I hear guests all the time like 
"can't you tell them to get up"
"who cares about the reservation" (aka the person who called 3 months ago to reserve that table) 
"let us sit there" 
"We have kids!!!"
"Yeah and so does that reservation, and it's little Suzie's 3rd birthday and their family tradition is to come here on her birthday because this is her favorite place and all four of her 90 year old grandparents are attending as well." If you don't like our wait, McDonald's is 3.4 miles up the road!!

There's a huge lack of humanity amongst people now. Now I'm not overly religious or anything, but where the hell are your morals people!?!?!?! Think of what you're teaching your kids!!! Now you might find this outrageous that we'll give tables to people who pay, but generally they're the ones who understand, they're the ones who are usually nicer, they're the ones who realize 'hey these girls are working hard, I want to eat, maybe there's a way to squeeze us in a little faster??' So that's how we justify it. 
Being a self-righteous, inhumane jerk = WAIT. 
Being a generally awesome human being = EAT. 
Learn it, live it, love it!

I'm not kidding about the bird shit either, people get shit on all the time. It's so hilarious to me too how people think they have to tell me they got shit on last time they ate here. Like okay, maybe you should ask to sit inside....? Um, hello we are civilized human beings who have spent hundreds of decades improving our shelters in order to protect us from the 'elements' and yet you still want to be outside... then you deal with nature. Sorry were you expecting a free meal? I get shit on at least once a year, I'm prone to believe this really is a sign of good luck, but I guess that just comes down to how you look at life. 

And people wonder why I love nature so much. :) 
I love CK Lewis' standup where he asks why people are so uncomfortable on the planet we call home. If this is home, why are we so miserable? Why do we hate everything about it? It's either too hot or too cold or too muggy or too wet or too much bird shit. 
Shut up, smile and deal with it.

Have a great day!