When I’m in a restaurant and being served, my sympathy is always with the waitress. They look so vulnerable to me, out on the floor, running around, working hard (I was an awful waitress). I have Mars in Cancer.
Waiting tables is kind of like stripping but with your clothes on (and for less money) because you are on display, your femininity is your job, whether you are serving up tits and ass or bacon and eggs. And rye toast, please.
Vulnerability. I feel it. Whoosh goes the feminine energy. Whoosh she walked by again and whoosh! Hips, legs, everything else. A woman walking by. Nothing less glorious than that. And her red hair lights the wall, wrote Richard Hugo in his most famous poem.
And I feel guilty for looking. You folks who go to Hooters, how do you handle it? Do you really want wood with your wings?
So I was watching this waitress do her thing and some regulars came in and she opened her mouth and the dream died 😉 Hard accented big vowels. New Jersey? You want tomato, Charlie? What? You want chocolate milk or tea? What????? What????
I didn’t love her any less. Mars in Cancer serves and protects, is sympathetic, and tends to mother even while admiring 😉
What do you observe about Mars in Cancer?
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