Some Women Just Like A-Holes

*Note: I dug this poem up on my dusty ol’ zip drive. It was written at least one year ago. Sadly I have no new material (that I’m willing to share with you). Somebody piss me off already and give me something to write about geez!

Its 1:45 a.m.
I’m sitting inside a 24 hour diner
on the outskirts of Grants Pass, Oregon
There are four silver-haired men
huddled together at a table near to me
They are talking loudly and laughing

They all order coffee

The waitress is a blonde-haired woman
with brunette roots
She’d called me “hon” when I took a seat
I like her

She’s wearing a black sequined top
and a scrunchie in her hair
The only modern thing about her
is a lip piercing
You know what you want?
She asks one of the silver-haired men.
His voice booms back at her:
I always know what I want! What time you get off?
His eyes blatantly scan her crotch
The other men at the table ROAR with laughter
I listen from the next booth over,
Thinking the waitress might kick them out,
I’m ready to defend her

The waitress hesitates for a moment…
Then, to my surprise, she replies:
Seven o’clock
And gives the asshole a wink

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