And we sit around talking about penis length and how it's width that matters.
It's slow, we're always busy but sometimes it's slow to start and when it's slow the other servers, they talk to me.
I wish they wouldn't but they do anyways.
The bosses' nephew, he's gotten engaged, refuses to discuss the herpes thing further.
And G. is concerned about his penis length and is enquiring after mine and I'm reassuring him that unless it's particularly small or otherwise deformed it probably doesn't matter.
And it's been a week now since I'm back to work, I'm thwarted from leaving by the dentist, unavailable for a consultation until Sept 22, meaning that the earliest I can be out of there is October, and I'm frustrated. Enormously and I make a note to vent upon the dentist.
Still, there are other things to be organized in the meantime. I need to see a doctor, get a prescription for Champex, 1st thing to do upon leaving the restaurant. And there are others, lists re; refinishing my accommodations, etc, trivial, mundane things, and I realize that the muse has fled, she lives on the margins of emotion, love and hate, margins of experience, too much alcohol, cigarettes, too little sleep, and now, in the long middle, she's not there.
There's nothing to write about.