Minimum Wage, Maximum Fight

Ellie bartended—

minimum wage, tips,

rent money, cash

for Rachel's treatment.

Crowded, voices raised,

pool balls crack—

a haze beneath the dim lights.

A gal smoked, flicked ash,

waiting for a date.


"Unwritten Law" drifted

through the speakers.


She twirled a stripper pole—

fired after one hour—

punched a patron

dead on the nose.


He had it coming;

the club disagreed.

Drinks she fixed fueled 

drunken rages.

Headlights swept shadows.


A driver crossed lanes,

killing a family of four.


Last month,

the landlord raised the rent;

her pay stayed the same.


Still, people stumbled out,

keys in hand.

Mitch told Ellie to cut them off

after too much—

but what was too much?

Some couldn’t hold a single beer.


Last Friday, no one tipped.

So she did—

took ten percent from the till,

tipped the doctor

to cure Rachel's cancer—

dark hair in locks, chemo done,

smiling up in Ellie's arms.


By Andy Cooper

From: United States

X: AC0040