Dreamland

Waiter

I’m moving out of my shabby apartment. I borrow an old pickup truck from a friend and load up my stuff. I don’t have much; it all fits in one trip. The place I’m moving into isn’t much better, but at least it is a house, so I don’t have to put up with noisy neighbors living upstairs.

The house is at the bottom of a hill; we have to park up above. I start carrying stuff down to the house. After the last load, the truck starts rolling. I forgot to set the parking brake! The truck rolls down the hill and crashes into the porch, splintering the rotten wood stairs and railing. Fortunately, the truck isn’t damaged.

I get in the truck, start it up, and try to drive it back up the hill. The soil in the yard is sandy; the truck gets stuck. We have to push it while revving the engine; finally I manage to get back up the hill. I thank my friend for helping, and for the use of his truck. He drives away. Now I have to go to work.

I just got a new job as a waiter. I work at an outdoor café that belongs to an upscale military prep school. I get to serve meals to these snooty rich people who come here to visit their kids (what a thrill). At least the tips are usually good.

I ride a bike to work. The bike racks next to the café are full when I arrive, the kids that go to the school usually park there. I start to chain my bike to a light post nearby. My boss, a heavyset older Japanese woman, scolds me: “You cannot park here, bicycles must be parked in the racks!”

I argue that the racks are all full. “There are more racks near the edge of the lake, you may park there,” she replies.

Angrily, I push my bike down the walkway to the edge of the lake. The racks are probably half a mile from the café. I lock up my bike, then look around. The scenery around the lake is beautiful. I change my attitude, looking at things from a Zen perspective. I could waste my energy being angry while I walk back, or I could enjoy the day. The choice is mine.

I walk back towards the café, feeling the warmth of the sun on my back. It’s a beautiful day, birds are singing, and I’m smiling, one with my surroundings. “Be Here Now,” as they say. Yeah, it might be a menial job, waiting tables. But it’s a lot less stressful than other jobs I’ve had. And I do get to work outdoors.