[i]
☼ ○ ▬
In a bar full of foreigners, mostly Russians. I’m trying to avoid the mafia who is on the lookout for any suspicious or out of place characters. While opening a door hatch from the stairwell I spot a roll of two five-dollar bills and a one-dollar bill stuffed into the hinge. I snatch it. There was a man passing through before me. I felt compelled to give him $5 from it because he also saw it. He thanks me in Russian, “спасибо.”
“It was eleven dollars!” I announce. At this point I realize speaking English could give my identity away so I cower from the floor and attempt to exit the building.
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up at 10:40 a.m.
Peanut Butter English Muffin. Baked Cinnamon Honey Grapefruit. Black Tea.
All day shift at China Wok.
Lentil Wrap with Tomato, Hummus, and Mustard. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Lemon Water.
Apple. Ginger Chews.
It’s one of those long unsuccessful days where the tips harvested are many but only subpar. It’s almost double the amount of orders today but they only come with these measly little tips that don’t add up to much. And I’m racking up the miles like nobody’s business.
Vegetable Egg Fried Rice. Blueberry Acai Greek Yogurt.
Off work and back home.
Chocolate and Milk.
Internet entertainment.
Sleep 2:30 a.m.
[i] Land of the Free, Home of the Brave. Discarded Reds, Indians, and Braves baseball cards. www.ghostofadream.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment