I clocked in at 21,
and punched out 16 years later
—the Longest Island Ice Tea ever—
and you definitely remember me—
the most beautiful bartender in the world, right?
—schmoozin’ the hackles on your wife
(de-furring)
—defusin’ your once-over
(demurring)
startin’ tabs
& takin’ prisoners
‘til you’re good & pacified, an’
me & the wife are tight
she is
‘til we are all BFFN’s!
(bar friends for now)
Dishin’ the dirt, an’
mixin’ the Mudslides, an’
knockin’ the longnecks
—all high 5’s
“I heard that’s”
and “I love you, man’s”
for a Happy Hour or 6. . .
A charmer this side of Medusa,
my forked tongue & sideways mouth
escape remark in the dim light
(you)
exude
—an’ I get you proper stoned
pour poison in cups
—& cupped ears
(a shuddering burn)
toasting
—and upselling
(smoke rising)
wining
—and slinging bar mix
(dining)
tuning you up
—& tuning you out
that Same Old Story launched for the nth time, but hey!
It’s Tuesday!
Thank God it’s F*cking Tuesday!!
2 for Tuesday!
TGIFT!
as the band starts
—high 5’s lowerin’ for a lil’ grabass
(conversations continue)
at scream level
(important conversations)
“Let’s start first thing tomorrow”
and
“That’s nothin’, check this out”
or
“He’s such a douche”
and
“Me, too!”
a confidant this
>close<
to tell-all,
I gotcher back all the way up ’til the time
I don’t
—the stories heard at witchin’ hour not worth wasted winks
“Make it strong”
(a stale plea)
“Wanna line?”
(oh, please)
“Turn it up!”
(a deafening directive)
cranking lights at 2 am so OR bright
codes crack
masks, too
beer goggles slipping off
along with hook ups, and
Double Vision sets in
—both 5’s clenchin’
now
(fist bumps forgotten)
in the good-nights
(of)
“Outside. Now.”
and
“I’ll kick his motherfuckin’ ass”
or
“Where’s the after party?”
and
“Tell her I left”
Bottled lightning
recapped
— at last call. . .
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