little thing about a waitress?

The time it took for "my eggs" to slam between neurons

and find a vocal cord that still worked

sauntered by in a topcoat and a sigh.

And as I looked up at her,

I thought, are you really being paid enough

to care how I want my eggs?

Did you spend all those days studying

for your spelling tests so you could write

"over easy" over and over?

What crack did you fall through,

winding up here,

in a dirty white dress?

Did the grease in your hair come

when you discovered they were

watching your wiggle?

Is a "More coffee, honey?"

really worth a grubby dollar

on a dirty table?

And just when did taking

somebody else's orders

need to be written down?