Friends, the Barmaid and I

I was not a drinker, I must confess. Well, once in a while I would transgress. A studying student perched on the stool Avoided eye contact and men's lusty drool. One quiet afternoon visiting the barmaid, No one was in the club to cause a tirade. Three drunks came in for a mid-day drink. They put up cash; their coins made a clink. I started to leave, but she asked me to stay. New comers to the bar, first time, that day. Partially smashed, they started to glare. I could hardly bear their shameless stare. I sat at the counter drinking my water. Before too long, those three became brasher. Buy her a drink; No, thank you, I said. If eyes could kill, I would have been dead. A bit unruly, they became quite insistent. I ordered my usual; they happily gave payment. Three glasses of water I drank that day. We played pool when they went on their way. © October 30, 2011 Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Confessions to a Bartender Sponsored by: Natalie :) The Rogue Rhymer