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Denver, comedy, and Denver comedy

Posts tagged colorado
Front of House

     The tornado siren rings, even in the basement.

     Their bodies settle in, fill in the gaps, steer clear of the damp concrete wall. A sweaty arm brushes against a sweaty back.

     The loud man jostles his way over to me. I realize I’m still wearing my apron.

     “I spilled my cappuccino on the stairs.”

     He expects me to say something. I keep my mouth pinched shut. I don’t want to have to deal with this. This should have been my break. I told you to leave your things behind.

     Over his shoulder, I see a bald man hunched over a bagel like a squirrel. Do none of you understand tornadoes?

     The floorboards groan over our heads. Wind howls in the ducts.

     “I’ll be happy to give you a refund.”

     He nods and squeezes between bodies around the basement, trying to find a cell signal.

     I imagine walking back up the stairs. I picture the entire shop being blown away. Only the tip jar is left behind.

     Sirens fill the basement and I’m on my break.