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She was sitting on the edge of the bar stool
Not wearing anything but her wings.
I found it curious that no one else seemed
to want a peek and I could not stop peeking.

“What will you have?” the bartender asked.
She was a short, mean-looking, lined woman.
Her face had x’s and stars like the palm of an old hand.
“I ummmmmmmm…..I……..” My mind went blank.

The faerie laughed. Not a tinkling, sparkly, cutesy laugh
But the laugh of a trucker who had smoked a thousand Lucky’s.
How a fog-horn oldster laugh like that could come out of something
With such a lovely backside like that, I will never know.

I caught her eye, and she said, “Have a Bud Lite.”
“Bud Light,” I said, as if my mind had mushed itself.
A brown bottle was plunked down in front of me 
Seconds later, minus lid.

If I had wanted it in the bottle, I would have brought my own.
 “Eight dollars,” said the bartender. What? I was askance!
I was not trying to pay income tax or anything. Just buy a beer.
Which I figured should have cost around sixty-three cents.

“Give her a tip,” the faerie said. Her voice was lovely this time.
I looked at her, and she winked. She had the most remarkable blue eyes.
Suddenly wanting to impress her, I gave the bartender a twenty
And my traitorous mouth said “Keep the change.” What the H?

The bartender brought me another bottle, plunked it down 
And said, “Eight dollars.” I did not dare look at the faerie.
I looked down, at my hands.  “I did not order another one,” I said.
Weakly, ineffectively, unsure of myself now.

The faerie laughed. “Mom, this one’s on me,” she said.
I was suddenly in a terrific mood again. “This is your mom?” I said.
She nodded her golden curls, and I fell in love with those blue eyes.
“Time to go,” Mr. Sandbottom whispered. “You have had your wish.”

In seconds I was out on the sidewalk, myself, again, an ordinary woman.
“How was it being a man?” He asked me. “Did you like it?”
“Strange in many ways,” I told him. “Familiar in others.”
I heard the faerie’s harsh, cold, fog-horn laugh, which had no effect now.
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