Philadeli, a meat & potatos,
coffee & danish, on duty
daily, South Street
opportunity.

Instantly, burgers & fries,
corned beef on ryes,
seemed perfectly suited
to a B.A. who majored in art

with a minor in obediance.

Still, her union of employment
and persona was not without problems-

this transpired, understand,
in an era before calculators
automated arithmetic.

She couldn't add-

and she dropped trays,
and mixed up orders,
and forgot her tables,
and banged into chairs,

and boggled the diners
with dyslexic totals
illegibly penned
on blue-lined receipts

until the inevitable decree-
You're fired! Fired! Fired!-
persuaded her that she
would serve herself better