the cashier

stock-still &

stationary---

the standing begins---

be it in the crazy hour of the absurdly early morning,

or the late eve (maybe you get lucky enough to work at a 24/7 establishment & sweat it from the night till’ the morn)

when you miss out on all the fun your friends are having when they’re not working---

regardless,

with legs panging from balancing upon the mat that was sat there for

your

“comfort”

by management trying to extinguish the grievances of the

peons

as quickly as possible

and the starch white shirt you wear

with your clip-on tie

and your name tag bearing a label that was printed just a bit

askew

reading your shortened first name

(for quick & annoying nicknaming)

& your misspelled last name

in the proverbial hell that is

grocery

you run foodstuff after foodstuff over the scanners

waiting for that

15 minutes of sanity

that comes in four hours

to get out of the place

& stand outside

seeing the beautiful day you’ve sacrificed

which you’ll never get back again

in order to tally up those hours of

minimum wage

and don’t complain now

because you know the stats

you know that x number of folks out there have ph.d’s and no job

they went to school for ten years to end up

washing dishes

flipping burgers

swabbing the deck

raising that hand to stop those stupid kids from running across the street too quickly

pumping gas

etcetera.

 

every customer has something moronic to observe

and comment, bringing you into their own personal strife

while being an armchair psychiatrist

certainly wasn’t part of your job description

but then again

when you applied, you didn’t care much about the job description

even you,

naively

thought that what you saw em’ doing when you walked in

was what you were gonna be doing

and that alone

would be the extent of your responsibilities

and yet

the joke’s on you

because when there is nothing to do

nobody to ring up

you got to keep yourself busy somehow

before that boss lady

before that boss man

before that boss early twenty-something (who may just be only a bit older than you but who started there when they were 15 and now can tell you what to do)

yes,

before one of em’ comes around and tells you to do something

extremely tedious and time consuming

killing

away

the hours

the minutes

the seconds

of your life

(but you know, “if you work here long enough and keep your nose to the grindstone---you might just get a few more table scraps and attain that holy moniker “manager” yourself).

 

did you tuck in your shirt?

did you shave?

did you tie back your hair?
did you take all your piercings out?

any of your tats showing?

hmmm

when you got them you didn’t think that this is where you would end up

you

thought the product of your creative mind would

pull

you

through

&

you, like bob,

“got a head of full of ideas that are driving you insane”

but bob made his scratch

that’s why you know his words

&

every day you are feeling more sidetracked

drowning in the everyday ways to try and circumvent your reality

and they bog down

every real bit of progress that could be made

if you could just

accept this

brief

demise

& produce in the face of all else

your work---that is,

what truly makes you happy

and in that

fight this place

fight this system that is trying to hang you

trying to stuff your head in that little circle of wood

and

drop

the

diagonal

guillotine

blade.

 

you alone hold the way out in the grip of your sole ambition.