#Yum

Food Servive

Folder: 
The Pixie Dust

Stable strategically placed melodies

Linger in the spice soaked air.

Workers buzz back and forth

Meeting the demands of the hungry.

 

FEED ME THIS

GET ME THAT

YOU DID NOT DO THIS RIGHT

 

"White or brown rice?"

"What does your kid want?"

"Did you do the walk of shame last night?"

 

They look down on us

As we serve them food they "need."

A craving to satisfy the beast inside

I'm probably more educated than thee.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I sat down in Chipotle today in Chicago. I'm in a location I haven't been to in 10 years (not the Chipotle, the city) and I am observing the people that walk past the table I'm sitting at. I am reminded of when I worked at McDonalds and how rude some people can be to others, especially the workers who are trying to better themselves and have money (THAT DOESN'T COME FROM OTHER PEOPLE'S TAXES IN THE FORM OF WELFARE) to try to support themselves, get through college, and step up to better their situation. I hate the stigma that comes with working in food that they "aren't good enough" for a real job because I remember when I worked at McDonalds and some guy had his kids come up and buy their happy meal toys and I told the kid to give the two dollars and twelve cents he wanted to use for two toys to his sister who had the twenty dollar bill so she could pay me that and keep the change, making a four toy single transaction over two separate transactions. The dad got in my face, spit flying out of his premature, scurvy infested mouth, nasty jaundiced skinned hand pounding on the table telling me that I am "dumb as fuck and a waste and shoul probably kill myself since all I'm good at is confusing his children and not doing my job right. He told me I should just leave now because I am so fucking dumb. I will never forget  that. This incident happened about 6 years ago, and I looked the man, dead in the face, and said, "Sir. I am 25th in my class in a prestigious catholic school. I have been on honors the last 3 years. I come from a poor upbringing and I work here to support my family and make sure I can afford to drive myself to this school because I am all my family has right now. You're getting this upset over a transaction with a happy meal toy, and if there is one thing I am confident in, it is my skills to tutor and teach because I have tutored the last 4 years. Here are your toys. You need a play break from life." Yeah, I took the write up for talking back. But the reason this story means so much to me, is because that was the first time in my life that I stood up for myself.

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Michelangelo

Folder: 
#Yum

A foreign sensation;
The taste of lace,
A touch of silk,
The free-fall of ebony kisses.
Painted desires on pale limbs
Your hands, my Michelangelo,
In every way, I am your canvas.

-Agapáme

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A rewrite of an old poem, Pyro.

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