All I did tonight was bitch. Bitch, bitch, bitch. I don't understand how professional servers do it. I'd smack someone before my first night was over if I was working as a real server. Where the fuck do people get their sense of entitlement?
Dude hands me his water glass WHILE I'M SERVING THE DESSERTS! From a tray.
I was like, "What?" I mean, did he want me to take it? It was like he was presenting it to me, that empty goblet.
And then, because I was acting like a server, I said, "Oh, I'll be right back with the water."
Another dude asked why we hadn't served any bread with the salads. I told him that it was a sacred law of the Opera House not to serve bread until the entree. I tried to joke about it, but honestly, that's the truth.
He sat there and pouted like Mr. Toad.
I took him his own special plate with two rolls on it. I said, "The chef wanted you to have this."
I won't even tell you what the "chef" told me to tell him.
It would have been anatomically difficult as the rolls were very soft.
Arggghhh.
Yeah. So what. The play was fine. The audience was entertained. There were fights onstage and gunshots and explosions and long explanations as to who the murderer might have been. I'm still not sure, actually. I was probably bitching in the kitchen when they announced it.
On my way home, the moon was overhead like a hooked slender grin. Not silver, not gold but something inbetween. I swerved to miss an armadillo, leisurely crossing the road. I did not hit him and for that I am grateful. He is probably still crossing that road. Armadillos can trot faster than you'd think but mostly do not. They have no natural enemies, armadillos, and say what you will, if it wasn't for the automobile, we would be overrun with them. I believe I have pointed this out before.
Back when humans first started hanging out at Wakulla Springs, there was a creature who still roamed these parts called a Glyptodon. It was as big as a Volkswagen Beetle.
It was related to armadillos. Can you fucking imagine? Oh hell no. Man, if you hit one of those mothers crossing the road, it would be a major bloody slaughter.
Well, the moon has seen it all. At least on this planet. The giant ground sloths, the mastodons and mammoths, the dinosaurs in all of their life-ruling glory. Here we are, we humans and we've been here for about two seconds when it comes to the relative age of things.
And yet, we deserve our bread when we get our salads and that is that. WE ARE THE RULERS OF THE UNIVERSE AND GIVE ME MY GODDAM BREAD! AND I WANT SOME WATER. NOW!
If I were in a sweet and Zenlike mood, I would be lovingly forgiving.
But I am not.
Instead, I am fantasizing the Amazing Glyptodon slowly and methodically chewing Water Dude and Bread Dude up and digesting them. And I am smiling with a smile as cruel as the moon's tonight. Sharp and deadly, amused by the silly, weak, two-legged creature who thinks that she or he is the prophesied end result of all that has come before.
Sweet dreams, y'all.
Love...Ms. Moon
