"The staff know me here."
You say with a grin
and hold the door
So I can walk in
A waitress greets us
A rictus snarl on her face
and shows us some seats
where tables jostle for space
Ordering my food for me
can be gentlemanly and nice
but please ask what I want first
- just a word of advice
I had started to wonder
Why they hate you here
but it doesn't take long
for the cracks to appear
“No cordon bleu here!”
You patronise staff
I feel my smile fix
as you joke and you laugh
Your handling of chopsticks
Far more expert than mine
So yes, I used cutlery -
I like to eat, when I dine
I look at the food
At our waitress’s face
And hope if she spat
It was just in your place
Meal finally over
I leave our waitress some change
It wasn’t her fault
That you were acting deranged
And I realise, just then,
At her pitying smile
That she too was your date
For an interminable while
©cih17, February 2017
starcline - less a blog, more a derailed train of thought
About Me
- clinestar
- Part time poet, full time librarian, student of the delights of milk chocolate. Likes books, milk, paddling, poetry, scribbling, chocolate, notebooks, sea, piers. Not necessarily in that order. All work copyright cih.