Lunch Line

Posted: April 28, 2009 in Uncategorized

There is a great grand sea stretched out before me, all shapes/colors/sizes of people in all forms of expression: singing and talking and lounging about. I sit at the top of the stairs and observe. Some sit, some stand, some chat, some can’t wait for the floodgates behind me to open and let them into the caf, so hungry that they gnash their teeth and hold their stomachs and tap their feet impatiently to some hidden beat of agitation. The doors swing outward, revealing a stampede of eager cattle to the horrified servers inside. The crowd surges forward, clutching at forks and knives and holding their plates out with tremulous desperation to be filled by sullen-faced kitchen staff on minimum wage and minimum efficiency. They sit, content in their sameness, their insulated comfort as they huddle in pods of tables, separated but equal. It is a wild storm of steel and ceramic and vocal noises, bliss to those that wish to hide amongst chaos. The calm of the storm is granted to all, though all are screaming.

  1. carole cromwell paddock says:

    I’ve been there….loved “storm of steel,ceramic and vocal noises.”

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