"Climbing Into Someone Else's Skin"

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The following is told in the perspective of the cashier/waitress I met when I went out to eat breakfast with my family after church. She was tall, blonde, probably in college, quiet, and seemed like she did not want to be there.


One of the downsides to working at a breakfast/brunch restaurant is having to wake up early for it. But really, who wakes up this early to go out to eat for breakfast. Whatever. This is for college. I could deal.

The other employees are already here. As they quickly clean up, I stand and wait in front of the cash register for customers. I realize the tasteless music we play in the background. It sounds like elevator music.

A family of five walks through the door. There are three kids, all really young. They are too cute! They order their food and sit at the table in front. I tell the order to Joe* who gets on it right away. I go back to waiting.

The next to walk through the door is an old couple, probably in their eighties or so. They took forever to order, and it wasn’t long before another family was in line behind them. I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for them, but they understood. They were a family of four with two teenage girls and their parents. I saw from the window that they decided to park in the tow zone in front of the restaurant. The girls didn’t take long to order, but then again, I recognize them as regular customers. They must have decided to bring their parents here. How nice.

I bring the orders to the family of five. Crap, I gave the wrong orders to the wrong people. I saw them switch plates as I walked away. But what else is new?
*Not real name, could not catch name tag





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