Bruce never thought

He’d be written about in his hometown paper, but he was I’m sure. It’s been a bruce springsteen sort of day. I believe it was something to do with one too many grey days, and one too many weeks/ months of only having one day off during the week. So now I’m drinking a heineken, eating dinner from a can ( gross I know) and listening to Bruce’s song “countin on a Miracle” Which seems about right.

Makes me think of when I worked at the Mediterranean deli, closing time was never close enough, and blasting the Boss while I mopped seemed appropriate. Ok, enough about Bruce, it’s just I forgot about him for a while.

Ky and I had a great day off yesterday tho, by noon we were puffing on a fine cigar and sipping our Manhatten’s and aged Scotch drinks taking in the finery of a casino outside of town. I really like doing that, it’s like mini-vacation. We gambled a little bit, then bought some gifts before heading to his folks house.

Serving others can be hard, I don’t know how else to put it. Why did this custom build up in our society? The more fancy the place you go, the less personality the waiters are allowed to have. As if the more money you make, the less you have to be aware of people different from you. My place isn’t that fancy, it’s just hard for me to find a little niche where I feel comfortable serving any and everyone. Teaching’s definitely¬†better in the respect that your helping kids out. Which always feels more rewarding, even if they don’t say thank you and stuff. Eh, kids are always better than adults.

Umm, I think I would have been better off copying and pasting Bruce lyrics for this post.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s