5 o’clock Torture

I’m on that 9 to 5 grind,
Naturally I am exhausted
But it has to happen, every afternoon.

The tap on my  window or the whistle from a few meters away.
That street vendor though, he catches you every day.
Is it  a hand made steel giraffe, a springbok jersey or a box of mangoes?
I don’t care, I’ll just ignore him until he goes.

There’s the occasional day that he just get’s on my nerves,
So i roll down my window, and throw words that’ll just kick him to the curb.
“Can’t you see that I’m exhausted, I’ve worked all day
What have you done, besides laze away?
It’s 5 o’clock and I’ve been up so early,
I fake a happy mood and I work so eagerly!
I focus, I strive, I have passion in my eyes!
So at 5 o’clock all I ask for, is that quiet, alone, home time prize
Bother someone else, why do you always target me?
Or better yet get a real job, then… you will see!”

I throw rants with my chest puffed and my nose up and I make him feel so small.
I don’t feel bad, I’ve worked hard today, I shouldn’t feel bad at all

Eventually one day,
that street vendor,
he cut me off,
mid banter!
He asked if I had seen him this morning on my way to work.
I replied, “YES! as usual you tapped on the window of my merc.”
So you see sir, he said, I am sure that you would’ve easily managed standing in the sun all day,
being shut down, ignored and constantly told to go away.
I don’t mean to complain, I don’t mean to be rude,
but while you’re on your way home, I’m still forcing that happy mood.
So with all due respect to that hard work that you do
It’s 5 o’clock for me too!

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