for his life to happen. He works in a place that he likes but it's not what he wants.
So the waiter waits for it's life to come to him. He waits for people to come, for tables to clear, for lives to pass in front of him. 
He waits for the right time, for the good opportunity, for the sign, but nothing comes, only less time goes away. 

He waits for someone to push him, for an event to happen, for his heart to start beating again. 
He waits for the light, the ignition to happen, for the motor to roar. 

He waits until he gets bored of waiting, and then he goes, just to wait somewhere else. 

Except he has to go, really go, and he needs to understand this, until then, the waiter waits.