Poem #3

Ode to My Shift

The engine stops. Wind blows.
A big sigh, and-
Time to sprint! I rush to the door
Passed the greeter and the manager and the cashier
all the way to the back of the club
just. in. time.

Punching in at 9:00 am.

I sign on to the register
Clean the belt
And the coffee grinders.
A monotonous routine,
broken up only by the occasional member:
"Can you tell me where I can find this?"
"Of course!" I hear myself answer
in a voice all too chipper for only...

10:30 am?

The store is quiet- church time.
But it's only the 'calm before the storm'.

And then it's 11:15 am.

Brace yourself...
"Hi! How are you? Can I see your membership card?
Let me get that for you. No need to pick up that heavy bag yourself!"
The beeping and the hustling and the bustling and the humming that is the middle of the day
Surrounds me, and I watch
As the lines get more crowded and the people get more impatient and the spills become more frequent and I just want some

Peace. 1:00 pm; my break.
All too short.

Then it's
back to the beeping and the hustling and the bustling and the humming that is the middle of the afternoon
and the lines get long and the people get cranky and the spills keep happening
and all I can do is
keep this smile fixed upon my face
faking a cheerfulness I didn't know what possible
waiting...
    waiting for:

freedom. 3:00 pm.