Day: January 16, 2015

A Visit From Stephanie

Stephanie stopped by, the other day

She drank what was left of my rum

Then she was on to the vodka

The traveler she brought herself

She talked about her latest guy

The one with the muscles and the red sports car

I pretended to be interested

But I didn’t do a very good job

“Are you even listening to me?”, she asked

“No, sorry.  I wasn’t.”

She considers this rude

Never mind that this is my house

Never mind that she polished off my liquor

Never mind that she wasted my time

Well, by this time she had finished her traveler of vodka

She was frantically rummaging through my cupboards

“There’s wine here, somewhere.  Where is it?”

I told her I had a case in the garage

It wasn’t expensive

And she wouldn’t have cared anyhow

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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The Missing Napkin

It’s was 11:00 pm, on a Tuesday

I came home to an empty house

Just like I usually do

Just like I usually like it

But this day has been far from usual

As far as I could tell

I met you in the bar on Hollister

The one on the corner

The one which is marked by three very different signs

The one which can’t seem to make up its mind

About the type of bar it wants to be

Anyways

That’s where I met you

We sat next to each other

The bar had filled, we had no choice

You wore a pretty blue dress

And you smelled of a pretty perfume

I drank gin and tonics, you had white wine

Before switching to vodka and soda’s

We both got very drunk

We both shared good conversations, a lot of laughs

When we had enough to drink

We thought we should wrap this whole night up

We exchanged pleasantries, names (again) and phone numbers

I had a short walk back to the abode

I didn’t stop along the way

I was feeling too good

Like I was floating in a warm sea

When I got there I took out the napkin

The one on which you wrote your information

I read it over again, had one last nightcap

And went to bed

I woke up early this morning

I had quite the hangover

And the new girl to thank for it

It was worth it

I don’t seem to find a night like that, too often

So I can live with the headache

But what I can’t live with

What’s really got me twisted

Is where that napkin has gone to

I’ve scoured the house like a rogue shark on a hunt

Nothing

So as I sit here, and nurse this hangover

With the morning paper and strong black coffee

And all I can think

Is how I hope she didn’t lose

The napkin I gave her

© D J Loweman 2015