Goodbye Labor
These fakers
stretch their arms for a hand shake
no thank you; goodbye
-
Here’s why:
-
in a few years, they’ll see me in their grocery store
maybe the back of my head
or bent over getting cans of black beans
from the bottom shelf,
-
they might want to call out my name
because I look so familiar
but they won’t remember me
and anyway
I was looking in another direction
-
Goodbye labor, it’s time for me to go.
You’re on your own, and I’m on my own.
-
these fakers
might see me in my obituary
the striking image of a human suicide
that rolls around the stomach floor
like marbles in a glass vase
maybe his handsome face
won’t strike you
yet
the name might sound
familiar.
My GPOYW would just be a photo of me trying not to throw up.
It’s probably a really good thing that Chris and I are four days into a 30 day alcohol-free thing that I’ve dubbed The Great Booze Snooze of 2012.
The president and CEO of the bank that owns the lease on the cafe said he will not make the space available to us. He doesn’t believe that “a limited menu (vegetarian) is a winning combination in our community.” He also thinks we’re under-capitalized (could be true, but I think we were close damn enough) and that because it’s a startup with a built-in high failure rate, he can’t judge the level of commitment we will have after the excitement of starting wears off.
I guess he’s tired of seeing the space turnover. And he did mention someone else who wanted to gut the space and reconfigure it more logically on their own dime, which is a win-win for the bank, even if that business doesn’t make it. At least then they get some leasehold improvement out of the deal.
I’m trying to find that thread inside that weaves all of the things that I know to be true together, but right now it feels as if some pompous overweight old white dude just yanked the thread out while telling me he knows more about food trends than I could possibly know, even though food is what I do for work almost every day.
You know what? Fuck that guy.
Time to figure out Plan B.
I Quit My Job
Old Man Luedeckeoh, bright minds of poverty
hold on to your heart won liberty
and discard your store bought realities
don’t let ‘em take the joy that you make on your own
work when you need to, maybe
don’t let ‘em bleed you, baby
they do nothing more than feed you, lady
don’t let ‘em take the joy that you make on your own
don’t fuss, don’t fight it, no
take that wrong and right it, ho
you can always live on rice and potatoes
take your heart’s candle and relight it
i quit my job
i’m free today
you should be proud of where I am
all my friends work their dreams with their hands
and truly this is the promised land
if you don’t let ‘em take the joy that you make on your own
don’t kill yourself about making it
just be taking it easy but be taking it
there’s enough out there who are faking it
don’t let ‘em take the joy that you make on your own
I Quit My Job
Old Man Luedeckeaccurate
I quit my job.
I don’t feel like working two hot ass jobs this summer, so I put in my two weeks notice at the pizzeria last Sunday. I’ll be working at the go-kart track something close to like 35 hours a week?
I like that job better. I’ll make more money without putting so many miles on my truck delivering pizza.
