Disgruntled Dispositions

Twenty minutes after ordering

And I still don’t have my burger

The coffee, left in my cup

Has grown cold

And I’m pretty sure it’s decaf

The crowd is thin

And most of my attention

Is focused on the table in the corner

A man and a women

Who seem to be neck-deep in a heated conversation

I can’t hear their words,

But their body language and gestures tell me so

I can’t seem to figure out

What the arguing is about

Or who’s at fault

Or who’s winning

What I do know, however

Is I’m thankful

For their disgruntled dispositions

Because I’m hungry and impatient

And in need of real caffeine

And thanks to their unfortunate set of circumstances

My waitress with escape

Without a verbal lashing

And with a tip,

If that burger ever gets here

© Dicky J Loweman 2015



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