Hot-el in Hot-Lanta

In Hot-Lana, a hotel lobby’s severe AC
Targeted my back 
My brow coveted in sweat and my back painted in labor 
I wait patiently for this business man to redeem points 
For a room provided by his prestigious company
My heels sewn to the floorboards 
Eyes swollen with defeat from 16 hours 
Wide smiles and empty stomach 
I wait for my turn
The salvation of a plastic key card
The business man is exposing how his job is difficult 
In his leather shoes and Gucci bag 
Rushing the receptionist
His obese fingers tapping the marble counter
“This company, ridiculous! I deserve the better room after what they put me through.
You see, they promised me they would cover the costs of…”
His hoarse voice dominated the lobby
In effort to retrieve its quiet slumber
The receptionist typed rapidly
Trying to collect the correct information
To have this man’s presence vanish
Out of all the business men I’ve served
I have never seen their teeth line into a smile
Or any pigment in their eyes
I have only witnessed the swift performance of their fingers
On laptops and iPhones
The canyons of anger and annoyance
Etched into their faces
The sound of their disappointment hanging in the air
Visible, wounded, and silent
How could we, normal servers could ever imagine?
Their pain and anguish
The business man rambles and snatches his keycard
Taking his rage and suitcase to the elevator
The lobby hushes into peace
I asked the receptionist about his night
He turns to me with tender love
Takes a breath and states,

“You already know what this is like”