Working a pizzeria has me all confused, confundido. I argue with faceless strangers over change and orders and misunderstandings. I argue with co-workers over different methods for different and equally unimportant things. I daydream about nothing and I feel hungry when I'm not. I think about all the different ways you can waste your life, and it really is amazing.
"Trapito". The Spanish word trapo, means rag or cloth, the kind we use at work to wipe down counters, tables, everything. There's some wacked-philosophy to the thing, which attempts to explain how there's always something to do, to wipe down, always something to replace, refill, clean, put away...to prepare for the Rush, instead of relaxing. When I'm too relaxed, I'll hear it from Neris, Trapito.
Look busy.
Wipe those tables.
They left cheese everywhere.
Hijue...
I've heard that insanity is doing something repeatedly and expecting a different outcome, and I really don't think the second part of that is always necessary. I believe it's insanity to work men out of fatherhood, a decent pay, and a respectable living, just because of their inability to secure another means of survival. And then what? No prognosis, no labels of insanity...just the cherubic boy at the counter, eye-level with the counter, repeating over and over
"excuse me...
"excuse me...
"excuse me...
for an ice after his ice cream.
There's an old man, an ancient, barely-living man, who comes in occasionally and orders a slice and he always has a scratch-off in his shirt's pocket...and he always make me think, but I'm not sure about what.
"What's the difference between the grandma and grandpa slices?"
I like to think about flesh, and the way it can burn, mostly within the job setting. I think about the brown oil in the fryer, the oil dripping off pies, the instantaneous brandings, heat rising out of an open oven, and how watching a miniature pizzeria run by curious children would be a terribly gruesome show.
"Can I have this corner slice, no, not that one, this one"
I don't plan on ever asking somebody how they're doing without actually having the mind to listen.
...I'm such a good person.
