Look Past Me

Thought of a lovely girl and her experience working at a theater.

The arm of the bus whirred,

My wheels locked as

I rolled into the theater-plex. 

Eyes looked past me, just above

My head. I creaked forward,

Moving toward the staff wardrobe 

Room. Snippets for movies played,

Popcorn popped, soda machines hissed.

They sat me up next to the entrance doors,

Forced pitiful interactions.

Moviegoers greeted with harsh sneers,

Though I smiled my biggest smile,

Staring soft daggers into each of their eyes.

I searched for an ounce of sincerity

In their performatively false glances.

Author's Note

Thoughts? Ideas? Feelings?

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

People don't get it...what it is like working those kinds of jobs.
And they do just look past us.
I cooked pizzas for many years...and I was not a person, just The Cook.
I would have said hello to this girl and gave a smile back to her.
j.