I work at a small Italian restaurant and occasionally I will spend a weekday wanting to pick up a flower vase and throw it through a window because I am bored out of my mind. There is only so many times a girl can polish a fucking knife before this urge for violence occurs.
However, my work also seems to serve as some sort of old person magnet. An irrepressible force seems to draw the elderly to my place of business like a Old Country Buffet Senior Special. For the most part, they are kind and jovial and I enjoy serving them. Other days, the devil seems to posses their frail bodies and I have once been told our lemons are too... "lemony." That's fine, I can deal with crankiness. It is the boredom that makes me crazy.
So one slow Tuesday, I was once again caught up in the banal existence that prompts me to religiously scrub silverware when a guest walked up to the register. Fairly innocuous in appearance, what immediately caught my eye was his bright orange hat with the words, "Old guys rock" proudly stitched across the top.
I checked him through the line, and after he had sat to enjoy his meal, I resumed my polishing. As the repetitive actions are not at all demanding, I began to utilize my day dreams to imagine all the different ways that hat could be interpreted.
And this is what I came up with:
Just wanted to share some of my more random thoughts. Enjoy.
