After work

Reads: 178  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
a poem inspired by my last couple days out and about.

Submitted: March 27, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 27, 2016

A A A

A A A


Yesterday, I sat behind the counter at the shop and held palaver with one of my regulars

He had grown to become a friend of sorts.

I felt my phone vibrate, a message flashed across my screen and he too had received it:

"What we doin?" it said.

It was from my coworker Gabe.

 

When the shop finally closed we picked him up and he said "Yo, let's get pancakes."

Kenneth and I heaved a collected sigh, the struggle of the working man hung on our breath as we we excalimed in turn, "I'm broke."

Gabe, smirked and with a spring thaw in his voice he said, "I gotta let my niggas eat." we laughed

 

So a mortician, a welder, and a retail associate walk into a denny's at 9pm. I know that sounds like the setup to a joke, but I shit you not, its true.

we sat in a corner booth near the counter and waited 20 minutes for service.

Our coffe was luke warm and tased like sugar and disappointment. when the food came my order reeked of cinnamon and butter and the pancakes jiggled like jello.

Gabe heaved a sigh, "Don't get me started with this shit man."

We returned to Kenneth's house, had some real coffee and the night was young.

It didn't feel like work was a problem or like the tank wasn't on empty like our wallets

the words "ball out" came rolling all to smoothly from Kenneth's mouth.

 

The next day, easter sunday. We close on time and ride with Kenneth to Walmart when we get back in the car Gabe chimes in "Where we eatin' tonight?" and again Kenneth and I find ourselves under a wave of empty pockets, and again Gabe says "I can't just let y'all go hungry." 

We arrive at friendly's and we eat. We talk and laugh and for a moment Gabe doesn't speak with a mouthful of formalin, Kenneth's words don't sneak in between rebar and solder and I don't feel so heavy with regret. For a moment we're just three young guys, just hanging out. We're kids again and the voices in my head are saying "This was a good day.".


© Copyright 2017 Angelo Sabia. All rights reserved.

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Angelo Sabia

After work

Poem / Poetry

What is courage?

Short Story / Romance

A show like no other

Short Story / Science Fiction

Popular Tags