Cactus plant has an attitude, that I like. It grows under extreme sun and minimum water. Yet, try chewing a leaf, a warning, in the form of bloody mouth, will announce, “don’t mess with a cactus.”
Kind of like me. I work at a roadside eatery, for a man who expects maximum work for minimum pay. Leftover food is free, so is a room for all attendants to crash. I have survived like the cactus plant.
“Hey you, shirker!” owner’s abuse broke my reverie, “don’t pay you to meditate, do I? Who is going to clear the tables? Your father?”
“I am on the job, bhayia ji” I answered with a mock sense of respect, while wondering, ” Your time to get a bloody mouth is approaching fast, you SOB.”
“Bhai, want to see a movie? A nightshow?” asked Ramu, a fellow attendant.
“Who is paying? I don’t have any money!”
“This truck driver and his assistant are making a overnight halt here,” he winked suggestively, ”they will buy tickets and pay more for other service.”
“Yes, why not? At least I shall pass on something for them to remember me later,” I thought maliciously, “Time to give a bloody mouth; don’t mess with a cactus.”
Word Count : 204
Photo Credit: Joy Pixley