the people behind the counter

i was in mcdonalds today, for the millionth time this week (that's another story).  it was lunch time, so it was pretty busy.  this mickey d's in smack dab in the hood, so there are always some interesting characters.  it's just that at this time all the characters come at the same time.

the people working behind the counter where all of latin desent.  the gentleman that i placed my order with was clearly new at his job and speaking english.  it took a while to place my order, and i was ready to leave.  while i'd be lying to say that i wasn't bothered, i usually remember that they probably feel way worse than i do.

my heart goes out to them, those people behind the counter.  they have to work hard, so hard!  i mean, mickey d's isn't exactly first rate employment.  they are doing what they have to do to survive.  what makes it worse is when people start yelling and being rude to them.  i hate to watch it.  makes me sad.  i wonder if they have dreams, and if so, will they ever be fulfilled? 

what i notice is that a lot of the people that are yelling at the people behind the counter are really in the same position.  it's just that english is their first language (but they don't speak it any better).  they all actually have a lot in common.  i wonder if they have dreams, too.  i also wonder if they have the ability to dream.  maybe the power to dream has died, suffocated by the grim circumstances of life and oppression. 

after watching the people behind the counter...stuck...i thought about myself.  i was/am stuck behind the counter, too.  trapped in a position where abuse is the norm because i don't have the wherewithall to do better.  doesn't make me a bad person...but i am an unequipped person.  or should i say, not using the equipment that i have to deal with my situation.

i'm tired of seeing those people get screamed at.  i'm tired of the bondages of my life screaming at me.  time to dream.  i'm coming from behind the counter.