Sep 06, 2004 02:19
There was a waiter at the waffle house tonight whose name was Chip... -like chip off the old block- ...More like chip off the old tooth. I drank weak Waffle House coffee in Cedartown tonight, instead of in Rome. I'm not really a big fan of coffee, but I always order it because I love the way it looks when you pour the individual serving of cream into a cup of black coffee. The cream plops into the coffee and disappears, only to resurface seconds later in a nuclear dairy mushroom, swirling around in clouds of half and half until it finally ceases to be creamer, and just becomes part of the coffee. It's fun to watch.
I feel a metaphor coming on....
Yes, I could share that fate with a pouch of creamer if I let myself be dumped in this town anymore permanently. With a quick stir, everything that makes me unique will be absorbed by this monotony, and I will just become a part of this routine, not really experiencing, only existing. I’ll just be an underlying after taste in the mouth of society, with nothing special to interject or contribute to the world.
-Griffin