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May I Take Your Order?

22 Apr
in my fifth year,
dad bought into franchise
of drive-ins
a restaurant chain

the waitresses in shorts
skated to the cars
hung trays
on the rolled down
windows
took the orders
skating to the fry cooks
for coney dogs
texas burgers
french fries
and their signature root beer served in frosted
glass mugs

the logo showed
a cartoon dog wearing a floppy chef cap
in waiter uniform
stripe down the pant leg
and bow tie

circular red background
holding
tray with a hotdog
and mug of sudsy root beer

my job
at five
police
the area around
the v shaped building
for litter

poking
hotdog wrappers tossed out of cars
with
a nail tipped dowel rod

filling up
a big plastic bag

i got a dime an hour
even then
wasn't impressed
with dad's cheapskate pay

but today
would jump through flaming hoops
to sink my teeth into one of those coney dogs with
the sauce and diced onions
soaking down a tankard
of the frosty root beer
best in the world

missing the good ol' days






4.3 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson 
 
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Posted by on April 22, 2022 in Poetry

 

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