Busboy Diaries

In the stairwell where the servers store

extra tables and chairs, I hear, two men

started fighting midday, the lunch shift,

with the restaurant at full capacity.

One fell down the cement steps, broke

his neck, the other had a black eye when

the cops hauled him away to prison,

which is why there was an opening to carry

large brown trays underneath heat lamps

from the stainless steel galley-style kitchen

of slick grease-layered tile floors, out double

swinging porthole doors, to a dining room

with matching carpet, faux-green-leather

booths, the dim-lit ornamental ceiling and

large aquarium centerpiece with 6-inch glass

dividing guests with storm cloud eyed fish,

to heavily glazed tables 2, 4, or, god bless’em,

six tops, adding gratuity at computers

in each corner of the house - where, now,

our proud Nigerian who tried to join

the Marine’s, who’d been here years,

stewing, followed an assistant manager

from Olive Garden with other employees,

finally went mad and overturned gas station

shelves one midnight, stripped his clothes

and ran across the street naked with only

a shotgun he procured from his car,

busting windows and tail lights on Bentley’s

in the Galleria until he’s too sweaty to stand,

barefoot, on the hood of a Mercedes-Benz,

with blood, tears and the raw gland of panic

slipping him further on angel dust, they say,

we read the headlines huddled as one

on someone’s smart-phone on the sly,

because we can’t have phones at work,

if they see us it’ll get confiscated on the spot,

but people are visibly upset, a few tear up,

and isn’t it just the way of this place, I think,

using towels to stifle sobs, the show goes on,

the habitual rotation, carousel of customers,

we w****s selling emotions, straight tie,

hard slack crease, little ambition, public

dress-downs, slinging slop, one in a lifetime

of meals, diners pay for the now, time

on their plate, each with its own leonine

importance, but behind the curtain the players

look out and salivate for a taste of real life.