I don't really know if she tried to rope me into some cruel sexual/ romantic love rejection game, but I didn't use her name in the song or anything that would identify her to an uninformed third party, so that just means my muse is a rather bitter/ paranoid little thing that makes sure the targets of her wrath don't get unduly hurt, I guess.
But, I would only patronize this business because I wanted to eat there. I never bothered this woman, I don't think, I tipped her well, and I just went on my way. Why rope me in as the loser in some vicious, capitalistic sex game where someone MUST play the role of the loser to whomever she deemed the winner? And yeah, this waitress might identify herself as just the lefty type who would rail against the excesses of capitalism, save for this one aspect of it which she really gets off on. One of the main lessons I've learned in following my buddha resides in the way a LOT of people NEED for me to play the role of loser in their tragicomic little shit plays. I've found this NEED that I'm somehow supposed to meet to exist because following my buddha allows me to shut down my end of it and just observe the world around me.
I've written about the particulars of this waitress' game before, but I'll try to summarize briefly. This waitress started acting rudely towards me for no reason on the occasions when I would dine there. I wrote that great song I mentioned at the top of this post, and decided to not go in there for a while. When I first wrote it I thought, "If I post this on my blog and she reads it, I bet she'd get a real kick out of it," but then I thought better of posting it right then.
I came back to this restaurant after about a month. She mentioned that she hadn't seen me in a while. Throughout my meal I overheard her talk to this really handsome, newer waiter in the wait station. She mentioned twice that she'd moved to Austin when she was twelve, plus other autobiographical information. As I left, a waiter I liked said, "Have a good one," in a wary tone.
My incredible psychic abilities ascertained that this waitress and this handsome waiter were already boyfriend and girlfriend by the time she volunteered this stuff about herself to him. My incredible psychic abilities ascertained that her end of the conversation amounted to some charade for the benefit of others, maybe even me. Anyhoo, given that this stuff just resided in my head, I decided to just stop going to this place when she worked there and, a month or so after that decision, I posted the dis song of all dis songs, "My Girlfriend Is a Hatesong," available for one's FREE listening pleasure through the link on my Music page to my Bandcamp site. On the great album, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (it's the eighth track on the album).
As I've said before, I wonder how people like her boyfriend like the idea of being used to play these kinds of games? Sometimes the sex partner relishes it greatly until they lose, I guess. But, I imagine at least some of these people don't like the idea of being, ahem, USED as a means for this kind of person's end. Oh well, I just like to think out loud on these things.