The good thing about a waiter
My friends told me I had no experience. That’s how I went into a big shop to look around and strike up a conversation, then I glanced in a bar and in a split second I found myself sitting down. I drank two glasses of beer and my head was spinning. Now I can go home, I told myself.
The following day, I decided to take the plunge on the beach and observe the lifeguard population. I settled down next to a girl, I didn’t know she was so pretty and when she turned round, I almost felt bad finding her in front of me and myself in front of her. Then I thought of the sun that blinds you when you want to see, so I told her this. She didn’t say anything, she looked at me and covered her head with a large hat. I felt how waiters feel. They imagine things because they only hear half-conversations, whispered when they are around or broken off when they pass, rhythmical or stealthy as appropriate. For this reason I will be a waiter, to bring silence to the table, to say here you are, would you like anything else, sorry to interrupt, you’re welcome.
Being a waiter is what you need to let your imagination run wild and get the right experience. And I bet that the girl who is grown up and clearly experienced, with some luck, will speak to me.