Some people say,

"waitresses don't deserve tips,
they've got their wages."
I say let them try the job on a full moon,
on a Saturday night.
Let them deal with a horn-rimmed-customer,
who is seriously contemplating
"this strange chemical on my knife."
His wife orders a NY steak, well done
"don't forget the A1" and fries
and asks why we don't serve ranch dressing.
Let them entertain four businessmen, three from Idaho
who think waitresses are as hot as stews.
I'm never in position when they grab, knowing they tip 9%.
Let them control their laughter
when customers use their bread plates for ashtrays,
and ask for a doggy bag to take an empty lobster tail shell
home to "Junior, who's never seen one of these babies."
Let them solve the problem of consumer oriented
martini drinkers who order it
"straight up."
The few extra swigs
splash on my tray
while I squeeze through the bar.
They feel cheated.
Let them live off of $113.47
every other week.

The Waitresses

Nancy (51)
comes in swaying smelling of vodka.
Cuts me off at the side station every time.
"I'm older, have respect" she says.
I frequently hear her scream "who left the
dirty wine glasses here?"
No one answers.
Peggy (47)
tells the manager he should change
station 6's in time,
tells us it won't be busy tonight,
Coast Hwy's expansion is absorbing our parking lot.
"All the customers complain to me."
Mildred (57)
her food gets cold
while she tells jokes
to customers she's met in her 20 years here.
They don't mind cold food.
She's slowing, her body shakes uncontrollably at times.
The busboys say she's senile.
Anita (45)
the only one who remembered my birthday.
She sets dirty wineglasses on my tables
when she thinks I'm not looking.
She comes to Halloween parties,
dressed as Superwoman.
Her husband can't keep a job,
she'll work any Sunday.
Jeri (24)
she flirts with the buy boys
talks rock'n roll with the cooks
and works five dinner shifts now.
The waitresses still look after her.
Peggy repeats "don't worry, kid, just stick by me."
She can't help but laugh
when Peggy turns her back.

I'm going to smile anyway

I have been in bad shape the last several days. It started with my knees and legs aching badly. Followed by my thumb starting to pop and, Yeow! it hurts when I try to use it. Followed by an infected tooth, which I sat on all weekend. Then the extraction -- which was the most pain I've been in in decades. I was at 9.5 on the 1-10 pain scale, for over an hour. And now the residual pain as the tooth heals and the thumb goes to therapy.

I will still try to smile. It's because I have no need to feel badly for not trikking for a week, or walking for several days. I have no reason to feel guilty or lazy or as if I've been back-sliding. And besides, I will walk today.

I don't have to worry about losing all the "fitness" I've gained. And even if I did, well, I'm signed on for the long haul. Just like my food plan. If I eat badly today that's ok. It's not about today, it's about 2010.