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By Rhetoric Date: 2001 Sep 13 Comment on this Work [[2001.09.13.15.22.14988]] |
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I sit down in your section. I always know where you serve and wait. Cordials and greeting slip off my tongue. You bring me ice-cold water, it wasn't necessary to remind you about the lemon. Floating past, looking attentively at my table; what concerned eyes you have. Funky clogs and a pressed white collar; you do stand out in a crowd. Do you give me better service than the rest? I shouldn't trouble you with favors, but how can I tempt you to visit MY table? Would I dare offer you a seat to chat as you frantically serve a restaurant full of admiration? Surely, they too are here to spend a lunch with you. With guilty pleasure, I pay you more for your scent. This place is no Hooters, but I watch just the same. Am I a monster, or a puppy in love? I nibble to seek your company; elegance with an apron. My dream waitress comes to take my order. |