Make Yourself Comfortable

Ishy Christine, Make Yourself Comfortable, Summer, 2019.

Make yourself comfortable, it’s 3 A.M. and the diner is empty.

The waitress who took your order of eggs and bacon with a side of toast and coffee, is bend over the counter with a newspaper, biting her nails, anticipating her cigarette break.  

Breaking through the late-night silence is the swishing of a broom against the tile floors, followed by the knocking of a broom into a standalone dustpan.  The swishing sounds is matched with a young guy about collage age sweeping up crumbs from a busy dinner time hours before. When the now stagnant bell on the door was frequently chiming and a crowd  of locals muffled the sounds of the jukebox, now heard in an echo, playing a 1950’s doo-wop slow moving melody.  

Out the window, the interstate road is as pitch black as the desert’s brush across the way.  In the distance a couple of lights dance from cars.  And a semi interrupts the night’s silence, passing you by. 

So sit back and relax,  

Enjoy the company of the waitress,  and the guy with the broom,

because you are not going anywhere.  

Not until the tow truck comes in the morning.