Closing Time

It was an odd night tonight. Strange people. Strange requests. Strange demands. Definitely tried my patience. I was ready to get cut and leave early tonight, I wasn't feeling the vibe. I had bouts of near insanity where I was conspiring to feed a guest soup with chicken stock in it because he was an annoying little vegan brat; or fill another guest's cup with regular coffee just because she kept bugging me to bring her decaf- in spanish! I hate having to sit there and take it. I'm not used to it. Its a learning experience for me. Actually one of the best things about my last waitstaff job was that I could throw people out no questions asked... But its an occupational hazard. We are here to please, sometimes at our own expense.


All night I looked longingly at the exit sign and wished I could just throw my apron in someone's face and walk out that door and out into the night. Oh and I would have taken all the cash I had on me too...


Just when I was ready to lose it, pfffffffffft... they all vanished like a puff of smoke in the night, never to be seen again. Then it was just me and my thoughts and the rest of the dinner staff


Finally closing time came and I made a dash for the path... Everything was in fastforward, lights and sounds whizzing past me as I made my way through the NYC streets...


I felt like everything was on autopilot... "just get home... just get home" I kept telling myself. I dragged my tired feet down the stairs and looked up to a beautiful sight...



Now the tough part... The unknown wait... It seriously feels like purgatory... Its hot, its uncomfortable... There are alot of drunk people paying for their sins at 2am in the morning below groundlevel. Waiting for a train that may come in five minutes or not at all... There are also some hot chicks... They look like shit, since they're either drunk out of their minds or halfway sober from whatever it is they were on, but pretty none the less...Another time, another place...

I sit at the edge of the platform looking down at the tracks that is litered with chip bags and ticket stubs... I see a sign that I never paid much mind to... it says:


But I don't want to. I want to live on the edge, feel the rush, feel life! LIVE LIFE That's what my being in new york is about. Its finding myself in a place where you can easily get lost. But to do so you have to flirt with danger... I stood up... walked passed the yellow line and looked at the oncoming light that was rushing toward me...


I didn't see my short life pass before me, I didn't feel anything... Just the slight breeze caused by a ton of steel headed my way... No I wasn't thinking about killing myself, I was thinking about not being so afraid... Not following ALL the rules. Not trying to be agreeable and perfect and pleasant. Does that make sense? I'm no saint, why try to be? Maybe I should just be me. Tonight was a good wake up call... A good gut check.


I will walk the line. And I will find myself and in it I will be free... Not here to make you happy here to just be me.