Good Day, Bad Day

TroyDubois

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I used to work on one side of the street; and it seemed like everyone that I’d meet, in every moment in every way, was having one of their very worst days.

They called the phone to yell in my ear. Loud enough for my boss to hear! Looking for this, or looking for that. Demanding I come and pick up their slack.

Well, I didn’t like these people, you know? But I was home less with no where to go. And since I had quite a few bigger plans, I figured I’d stay and lend them a hand.

I was working for this property management team; where the perks were never as good as they seemed. Because they would always call me to say, that something was broke on this horrible day.

I used to work on one side of the street, and it seemed like everyone that I’d meet. In every moment in every way, was having one of their very best days.

They’d come, sit down, these women and men. And call me right over to order some gin. Looking to have one hell of a night — yes, indeed a hell of a sight.

Well I grew to like these people, you know? They’d sit there and frolic with no where to go. Smiles on their faces and ice in their cup, I’d stand there and smile, and soak it all up.

See, I worked the bar across from those flats. The nights were long, but the tips were fat. So many people to hug and say hey, I’d watch them live out their most perfect days.

And this is how it went for a while. One side fragrant, the other side foul. I started to ponder as I crossed that street, the difference between the people we meet.

Could it be that some folks have no luck? The ones who catch flus with cars that get stuck? That wake up each day to pain and strife, while some folks have the time of their life.

Plenty of ice cubes with gin in their drink, with narry a worry ‘bout clogs in their sink. The folks ‘cross the street were just stuck in their tracks, I vowed to leave them and never go back!

I knew exactly what type I would be. I hated the bad days, they just weren’t for me. I sat at the job that I’d soon leave behind, ‘til one day this thought just blew my mind:

I’d just come from lunch a tad bit late, and heard the phone ring as I walked past the slate. This man rambled on and needless to say, before long we were both having a pretty bad day.

His toilet and microwave, the A/C again. He even misplaced his recycling bin. I handled his shit and then bid him adieu, and clocked out to clock in at job number 2.

Smiles and laughter; happy and gay. Now these were the folks having a good day. These weren’t the type to nag and complain, they just ordered their gin again and again.

But later that evening, what do I see? That bad-day fellow with the broken A/C. Smiles, and grins, with plenty of friends, he gestured me over to order some gin.

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My thoughts from the worlds of Music, History, Poetry, and Culture. For lack of a wetter bird, I can show you better than I can tell you.

Atlanta, GA
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