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
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