Dear John,
You remember that techno CD I made for you and Chuck?
I dunno if he remembers,
But Chuck trained me my first day,
When I fell and almost burned my face off on the grill,
He went to prison not long after that.
When he got out,
You came and asked me if I knew how to burn CDs,
That you and him loved to dance at night,
That you loved techno.
You remember when we used to bitch about the district manager behind her back,
Because she made that 16-year-old drive-thru operator cry?
How you took the blame for that,
‘Cause I was just another 16-year-old she didn’t give a shit about.
You remember when she pissed you off so bad,
You had to run into the freezer to cool off,
How they split you and his stores,
Made you work opposite shifts,
Did you ever get to dance to that disk?
I know you said you loved it,
But whenever she wasn’t around,
You had that perfect attitude,
That makes customer-service legendary,
And it’s hard not to wonder what lies behind that smile.
I regret never coming to visit you after you got fired.
I hope you got to dance your techno with Chuck.
I hope you dance every night.
