at five past midnight   under a flickering "open" sign   that went out just as soon as i walked through the door      in the diner in late july   i found the meaning of life   and what every patron and waitress that night was waiting for      i sat alone in a back booth   stumbled over some half truths   about how i was expecting someone, and i'd be needing the extra room      the waitress was listless   working overtime and double shifts   and staring longingly at the door      the tragic parody of adult life   was playing out in front of me that night   like a dream where you wanna run, but your legs have all but died      and i could've sat with some old friends near the front   the uninvited guests in the town we're from   and shared the lives we lived with the strangers we've become      or i could've sat on a barstool and had a drink   to forget the things i had to do that week   all the hearts i'd have to break, and all the homes i'd have to leave      or i could've called over the waitress who came undone   confessed that i'm not waiting for anyone   and if you'd like, i think you oughta sit with me when you're done      but the door had just finished swinging shut   and the manager was spitting and cursing her luck   the waitress was already gone.