16.12.12

'Ludlow P Rothaus, Private Eye'


I got to 'J and H' a little early
and since it was the kind of greyhaired caffeteria
where the old men take bathroom breaks to re-part their hair,
I spent the extra time scrubbing my pontius pilates in the bathroom.
I hadn't had a job in months and I wanted to impress this broad.

Admiring my shadow over the sink, where the mirror would have been
in any regular diner,  I thought over the names of all the chess pieces
and the few important countries in europe who were fighting the Nazis
in case it came up in conversation. Maybe I would make it.

She was a classy broad: the kind you really needed to
knock off her feet to get a job. Maybe she'd give me a car and tell me
to follow her husband when he got of work. take pictures of him with his friends
from the balconywhle he bowled striked. I'd never seen a two-tiered bowling alley,
but in this game, you never know what's coming next.
Maybe she'd ask me to steal a body from the morgue.

Back in the cafeteria, the line was thinner.
"enough beans and rice and chicken nuggets
on this bar to make me feel like a cowboy
 in the wild, wild west," I said to the Edna behind me in line.
"very well, thank you" she said and I turned back around.
I had thought my luck would change with this job,
but I was getting a sinking feeling that the coffee on my tray
was going to end up tasting like her plastic teeth.







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