Retail Worker’s Lament by Patrick Ryanball
(after Elliott Kahlil Wilson’s Wedding Vows) Note: These are not the intended line breaks
I like being stepped on. I have no need for personal space. Feel free to reach across me without saying a word. I want that. Assume I will move for you like a weather vane moves for the wind. That your time is more valuable than mine. Assume I’m uneducated. That I have nothing better to give to the world but my cracked and soiled hands. All my time. Emptied for you to fill.
Please call me a strange name even though I wear a name tag like a clear day wears sunlight and the night pins on the moon. And go ahead, ask me where the bananas are, I will tell you with some joy born out of pithy revenge that they are the bright yellow things right in front of you, and the both of us will laugh.
I have nothing better to do right now than to serve you. I’m always ready to go the extra mile. I’ll do it with a smile slapped across my face. I’m as flexible as taffy. Stretch me as far as I can go. I am not yet broken. And pay no mind to the mess you’re making. Once you walk away, it vanishes you know.
Minimum wage is just fine. In fact, I wouldn’t accept anything less. I’m not interested in paying my bills this month. Let me work for the holy gift of health insurance and fair pay. I can wait years. I’m as patient as a fire alarm for it. I will lose my house for this job. My dignity. My free time. All of my relationships. I am that committed to this company.
Want to know my retirement plan? I will work up to the day I die, poor and anonymous.


