It finally slowed down. They had to get as much cleaning done as possible before the next rush. Dave was wiping out a milk fridge. He was always wiping out a milk fridge. He was tired and hungry for something that wasn’t fast, something that wasn’t easy. He still couldn’t stop thinking about the person he let steal their tips, their livelihood; how could I let someone do that. I let my team down. All I can say is ‘oh well, it is what it is.’ I don’t want to say that though; it doesn’t do any good. I want to say something that will do somebody some good.

“You know, when people ask if our tip jar has ever been stolen, I always just say ‘no’ like I’m surprised the world is a decent place or something,” said Dave over the headset.

“It hadn’t been stolen in the entire time that I’ve been here,” said Riley.

“My point was, from now on I’m going to say that people have tried to steal it, but we apprehended them and called the police.”

“You know what that sounds like?”

“What?”

“Fake news.”

“Okay, but what’s your point?”

“If that had ever happened, it would have made it on the 4 o’clock news. No one will believe it.”

“You don’t think word would get around and that it would deter people?”

“I think what’s done is done, and you can’t do anything about it. Don’t beat yourself up, man.”

“Objectively, I can’t see any reason that you aren’t right.”

“That’s because I am right.”

“Well emotionally, I can’t help but disagree.”

“Well emotionally, how’s that working out for you, Dave?”

“It’s not.”

“Then stop doing it. Get over it.”

“C’mon Riley, you know that’s easier said than done.”

“Okay, but are you trying to get over it, or are you just letting it bother you?”

“I guess I’m just letting it bother me. I just want to feel useful, I guess. I want to be the hero in the story, the guy who saves the day and makes everything right. I had a chance to do that, and I failed.”

“You want another chance to be the hero?”

“Yeah.”

“Stop wiping that counter over and over again. Do something useful. Clean the fridges or something.”

“Yeah, no, that’s actually what I was doing. I just got distracted for a second.”

“Uh uh. I noticed.”

“I was just saying, if I made stealing our tip jar sound less enticing, maybe it wouldn’t happen again.”

“You can try, but will you ever really know if it makes a difference?”

“No, but I imagine it would.”

“Then the tip jar will definitely be safer in your imagination, my dude.”

Dave was stuck in the merry go round on an empty playground . Riley was right. He knew Riley was right, he knew he should get off the creaking ride, but he was trapped in its spin: I should have. I could have. I wish I would have.

He was carrying a rock no one asked him to pick up, and he didn’t know how or where to set it down; it was glued on his arms and back, and even if it wasn’t, if he set it down here it would just roll back down the hill. Boulders always go downhill. This isn’t my boulder. This boulder is just a distraction.

“Alright, I’ll let it go,” he finally said. “We’ll talk about something else. How are things in your world?”

“Ummm… They’re good. They’re good I guess,” said Riley.

“Well, they don’t sound that good.”

“To be honest, I’m just frustrated. I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what?” asked Dave. Gee, she sounds like me.

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“How I can work forty hours a week and still can’t afford to get the heat fixed in my car.”

“Yeah… That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does suck.”

“Maybe you need a second job.”

“That’s what I’m thinking; I just don’t see how I can work any harder.”

“Yeah, forty hours a week is a lot to put into work like this.”

“I’m considering the Cantina down the road.”

“Another food service job?”

“Well, that’s kind of all I’m good for, dude.”

“Okay, but why Cantina Drive specifically?”

“Well, I eat a lot of food from there and employees get half off at all times. It’s better than anything we have to offer from here.”

“Yeah, the food here really sucks after a while. Every time someone spends seven dollars on a sandwich, it whittles my faith in humanity.”

“Right.”

“One sandwich plus tax is worth what I make in an hour. An hour of my life is worth a sandwich to this company.”

“Right.”

“I have no idea how this place makes so much money. You know how when we make a mistake and call it out for free? No one ever takes it. No one ever wants it.”

“Right!”

“No one ever wants anything here for free, but everyone’s happy to pay a few minutes or an hour of their life for this crap.”

“Doesn’t make any sense.”

“Not at all. I wouldn’t pay a single minute, let alone an hour. The only way I can explain it is by believing that only stupid people choose to spend their money here.”

“I feel like only stupid people choose to work here.”

“Hey, c’mon! I can at least read; I’m not that stupid,” said Dave.

“You just have to be an idiot to keep yourself here, doing this job, for these wages.”

“Okay, then why have you been here for so long?”

“Because, and I hate to say this, but I kind of like my job. I like giving people a smile and trying to make their day a little better. I like working together as a team. I like making drinks, talking about coffee, and being trusted with money. I just wish I worked for a company that cared about me as much as they asked me to care about my job.”

“Have you thought about opening up your own store?”

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a lot of work and risk involved with that, not to mention the difficulty with finding a loan.”

“Yeah, but you’d have more control over your life; isn’t that what you want?”

“No, control has nothing to do with it, man. I want the company I work for to show me that an hour of my life is worth more than eleven dollars. I want to go home from work and turn the heat on in my apartment because I offer a service that can afford me that simple luxury.”

“So, money. Money is the problem; you’re saying you don’t get paid enough.”

“Yeah, kind of. That’s part of it. It’s really like I’m working for a place that doesn’t make me want to work for it. Not being able to pay my bills when something comes up is just part of that. Like I said, I want to work for a company that cares about me as much as it asks me to care about my job.”

“I dig, man.”

“I’m saying too much, though.”

“No. You’re only saying what you need to say,” said Dave. “Don’t censor yourself because you’re ‘in charge.’ They don’t pay you enough for that.” I remember why I left at the beginning of the summer. You do everything you can, you bust your tail trying to make things work, trying to get ahead, and then the refrigerator breaks. Then your wife gets sick. Then there’s no point in you working so hard; life always seems to outwork you. There’s nothing I can tell her; I haven’t gotten past this stage myself. What’s something I always wanted to hear?

“You do a great job here. You deserve more,” said Dave.

“Thanks.”

“Go get it.”

“What?”

“Go get your ’more.”

“It’s not that easy, Dave.”

“Just because it’s not easy doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

“Just because it’s possible doesn’t mean it’s practical.”

“Fair point, but-”

“What are you working on?”

“Honestly, nothing. I’m just fed up with today. What needs to be done?”

“Have we done the bathrooms?”

“No. I’m on it.” He grabbed a rag, a bottle of restroom cleaner, and a mop and headed to the bathrooms. I can’t solve her problems or the problems of any of my friends for that matter. I can’t solve my wife’s problems; I’m not even sure if I can solve my own problems, but I can face them. He sprayed restroom cleaner all over the sink. I can face them. I can’t wait for answers; I can’t wait for anything to just come to me. Things have to be found; things have to be built. Work has to be done. I have to go on stage. I can’t do this under a dogma of death. He wiped down the sink and began spraying the tile walls. I think, for once the idea of wanting to live feels significant.

I can only find truth through life, buried deep in its cycle like an ore waiting to be found, waiting to be forged in the hands of a master. Truth glitters on my eye more than gold and starlight, yet it is infinitely more ephemeral. He ran the mop across the floor, wiping up the cleaner he’d sprayed down. To discount truth, to say I can know nothing of it, is to deny myself the gift of my own experience.

To say truth is simple is to say that life is unnecessary, that all the intricacies and nuance of birth, death, growth, conflict, and struggle can be learned in an evening. If some billion brief existences have not achieved everything there is, then how and why could I, just another individual, ever discern a mastery of being.

Feasts are eaten by many, sitting around the table with compassion for each other. Without the compassion, the food just gets cold and grody. If we all bring nothing more than-

“How are those bathrooms coming along?”

“They’re coming. I’m going,” said Dave. He realized he’d wiped up all the cleaner he’d sprayed down. He was just running a dirty mop across a clean floor now. He sprayed the outside of the toilet and grabbed a rag.

-the despair of our hunger, then what would we have together? Nothing. Death.

He finished wiping up the bathrooms and sprayed the hall outside them. One day, I’ll know what it looks like when you go out the door, but I want to know everything the show has to offer first. As much as I can know.

Dave looked up to the empty set. An actor came out from stage left, running a mop across the floor. He looked down at the mop in his own hands, his circular wipes slowing to a stop. I’m just mopping. I’m just wiping down these floors. This is life, and I’m okay with it. I kinda love this simple moment. The actor on stage began to whistle, hum, and sing interchangeably. Dave recognized The Doors. “Yes, the river knows!” he joined in, too eager to share company in his work.

Believe me. On and on it goes. He looked over to the Exit. Yeah, I’ll have to walk through those doors one day… but not yet. I’ve got something I want to try first. I want to try bringing something to the table.