thoughts over shrimp linguini

[aruan]

so i'm sitting here in red lobster drafting my linguistics paper over lunch, and my waitress, who regardless of my having completed my meal at least 10 minutes ago and already paid my bill, keeps swinging by: would i like some more water, was everything alright with the food, etc. and not in that irksome manner that some try to veil with niceties and false concerns as to our satisfaction so they can get the table cleared already; she was genuinely earnest and kind, truly out for others' happiness. she's making me ashamed of my own sarcastic ways even as i'm trying to compose a paper just on that topic. she seems so patiently set on being able to help me if i could only figure out what's missing. and i wonder about that, if we were all a little more like that, less dismissive and irrespective of others' needs, wants, humanity even. it's one of the things i didn't like about atlanta - everyone walked either with their head up, looking straight ahead at some unseen destination but striving toward it relentlessly nonetheless, or with their eyes turned down on the sidewalk in front of their feet. either way, no one smiled, no one greeted, no one spoke or laughed or, god forbid, actually looked at anyone. so many looked broken or tired, the fire of dreams that lights up people's eyes gone from theirs, and no one caring enough to notice, too wrapped up in trying to keep the same thing from happening to them. i can't think of a big city as heartless like that though, and so i'll go on another idealistic diatribe and keep at the hoping against hope bit. because that's what i do.