NEED A GREAT COVER ARTIST?

NEED A GREAT COVER ARTIST?
NEED A GREAT COVER ARTIST?
Showing posts with label schizophrenic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label schizophrenic. Show all posts

Sunday, February 6, 2011

A Migraine and A Schizophrenic Waitress

Since Friday, I’ve had a stabbing migraine. Compliments of a high pollen count and the barometric pressure. Florida can be a painful state to live in.

Yesterday, the heavens finally poured but the pressure is still unrelenting.

No-no is now worried that her jaw-bone is fading away.

My eight year old step daughter, Banana, covered my kitchen table, my writing area, with puke, Friday night as well. Poor thing, has had a fever of hundred and three. Motrin and pop cycles haven’t helped much.

When I came home from work yesterday I went straight to bed and fell right to sleep. Dreams were interesting. Thought I’d share one in particular.

Shelly scooted into a red vinyl booth. Her friend did the same on other side. It had been a long time since she’d had one of those greasy Woolworth burgers.

She looked around the restaurant. It wasn’t like the old Woolworth’s diners. Instead of one row of booths there were three rows with shiny dark tables. No short order cook stood behind a bar either.

One couple sat to the left. Another somewhere in the back. A waitress stood, with her back towards everyone, at a coffee and silverware area.

The waitress picked up a coffee pot and two mugs, turned around, and walked towards the two women. She chuckled out loud half way to Shelly’s table, and said, “I know, I know.” The waitress looked to her right side, stopped for about sixty seconds, still looking at her vacant side. “Really?” she laughed more.

Shelly raised her brows and tapped her friend’s hand across the table. “She’s talking to someone.”

Her friend turned around. “Who?”

“Beats me.” Shelly shrugged.

The waitress clanked the mugs together, turned, and proceeded to walk toward the women’s table. She put the mugs down, clicked her gum, and poured coffee into each one. “What can I get you ladies?” She let out a laugh, jerking her body forward, set the coffee pot onto the table, and slapped at her bottom. “Now, you stop that! I’ve got work to do.”

Shelly and her friend looked behind the waitress. They saw no one.

“Sorry about that.” The waitress straightened her pink uniform. “Are you ready to order?”

“We don’t have menus and we’d like some water instead of coffee,” Shelly’s friend said. “Some silverware would be nice, too.”

“No problem, ladies.” The waitress fixed her apron, popped her bubble gum, and picked up the coffee pot. She looked behind her and said, “Come on, honey.” She took off toward a set of double doors.

Shelly and her friend were left speechless and stared at each other.

Another round of laughter came from the kitchen doors. The waitress came out with a tray full of food. She raced by the two women. “I usually have a great sense of humor,” the waitress said. “But, you don’t understand, honey. I need to work right now.”

Shelly and her friend stared at the waitress. She came to a complete stop at the booth across from them. They watched the waitress do a jig and roll into a round of belly laughs. “Oooo…now stop that!” The tray fell to the floor with a loud thud.

A beepbeepbeep sounded beside Shelly’s head. Time to get up.

Another one of Shelly’s dreams. A migraine induced one.

That’s all for now folks! It’s another hair lopping day.

Happy blogging, reading, and writing!

Shelly