Things Said During Service (That Sound Like Poetry Out of Context)

Can you give me thirty seconds.
That’s not what I meant.
Behind.
Hot.
I need hands.
Where did this go.
No, not that one.
We’re waiting on fire.
It died.
It’s fine. It’s fine.
Walk it.
All day.
Again.
Again again.
That’s dragging.
Who touched this.
I need eyes.
Hold.
Hold.
Go.
I didn’t call that.
Why is this cold.
Send it anyway.
Don’t send it.
I said don’t send it.
We’re in the weeds.
We’re not in the weeds.
We’re fine.
We’re not fine.
Kill it.
Refire.
Refire everything.
Table twelve is watching.
They’re always watching.
Sharp.
Hot behind.
Corner.
Corner again.
I need clean plates.
I need clean thoughts.
Where are my spoons.
Who took my spoons.
We’re out.
No we’re not.
Yes we are.
I can make it work.
Make it work.
Make it work.
This isn’t right.
This is right enough.
Push.
Push harder.
Breathe.
Don’t breathe there.
Pick it up.
Wipe it down.
Wipe it again.
Why does this look like that.
That’s not how we do it.
That’s how we do it now.
Last call.
Last one.
Last one again.
We’re closing.
We’re still open.
We’re almost there.
We’re not there.
Service.
Service.
Service.