Riffs

It's a job.

Barmaid in a beachfront cafe, another day in paradise:

“Better here than Chicago…” she said, but I wasn’t hearing a lot of enthusiasm in her voice.

The newlyweds at the bar were talking to a scuba instructor. The barmaid had heard this conversation before.

“Better here than St. Thomas…” she sounded more certain this time.

The older couple at the bar listened politely to her riffs, her variations on the theme of island living.

“I just wish I could find someone who knew how to do Caucasian hair…”