Africa

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People have always told me that I was a pretty girl. They would say that I was blessed with such beautiful features. My mother is African American and my father is Italian. They got a divorce when I was 5 years old. I just sit here on my bed contemplating whether or not I should go to work. Ugh I fucking hate my job.

I get up and get into the shower. I think about college since I just graduated a couple of weeks ago. Man I miss my friends. I miss the little things about high school. Like walking through the hallways and eating in the cafeteria. I get out of the shower and dry off. I put on my work uniform and leave.

I arrive at work just in time. I'm a waitress at this very popular cafe. I stand behind the counter and take orders. I watch as teenagers walk in along with a few adults. I then notice a big group of men walking into the cafe. They walk in and sit at a booth in the corner.

I walk up to their table and take their orders. One man with dark brown hair and hazel eyes looks up at me and takes his order. "Me and the boys will have the ham and cheese sandwich with coke." I then start writing down their orders. "For all of you?" They all nod and I walk away.

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