money

The Etiquette Of Navigating A Corkage Fee

Twenty-five dollars

That cock-sucker of a waiter

Wants twenty-five god damned dollars

What for?

For nothing

He did absolutely nothing

I brought the wine

I opened it, even though I knew not to

He said there would be a corkage fee

I agreed

But twenty-five dollars?

The whole bottle cost only thirty

Perhaps we can work this out, I thought

Finally, I had the answer

I put my money, for the meal, in the checkholder

I pretended to go to the bathroom

But slid out the kitchen, instead

Twenty-five dollars?

Suck my cock

You get none of it, garçon

© Dicky J Loweman 2014

* Number 3 from Muses and Other Gauche Thoughts

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My Lover, The Thief

She had style and beauty

She walked with her head high

She liked who she was

And so did I, at least at first

She had no job

Never seemed to need one

She had money, when she needed

She was by no means rich, but she got by

I met her in my favorite bar

We shared drinks and laughs

She had a dark sense of humor

And I fall for this

Every time

We came home one night

We had a nightcap

And got ready for bed

I finished brushing my teeth

And upon returning to the bedroom

Found her organizing a handful of bills

A quick glance, she held maybe fifty bucks

I asked her where it came from

I paid for all the drinks

She said she didn’t have any cash with her

She told me how she lifted a wallet off the guy next to her

She told me she stole it

Fair and square

I asked her how she would feel, if he had done that to her

She laughed it off

She was smug

She seemed proud

She told me this is how the real world works

I haven’t seen the whole world

But, I’m older than her

And I know I’ve seen more of it than she has

So I asked her, again

How would she feel

If someone took all her money, from her

Again, she laughed me off

I didn’t sleep well that night

She slept like a baby

Just like she always did

No heavy thoughts

Nothing resting against her conscience

I finally got up

After acknowledging that I won’t sleep, anymore

I moved about the house

I clean up the clothes I threw off, the night before

And think about the money, still in the pocket of her jeans

I make coffee and read the paper

And after I’ve had enough

I wake her

I force her out of bed

I throw her clothes at her

And I hurry her into dressing

In the same panties, jeans and sweatshirt

She wore the night before

I tell her we’re late

We’re going to a cafe

I told her how I had made plans to meet a friend

And I lost track of time

She’s still half asleep

Only going through the motions of getting up

She was either in a really deep sleep

Or still drunk

Maybe both, but I don’t give either of us time

For any answers

I hurry her to the car

She tells me, as we back out of the drive

How she didn’t brush her teeth

And she asks again, as to where we’re going

She doesn’t really care, so I don’t answer her

I drive her to the cafe

On the opposite side of town

A good jaunt from my house

And even further from her apartment

I stop the car in front of the Sunrise Cafe

I ask her to get out and go grab us a table

I tell her I’ll park the car and be in soon

She does as she’s told

Although, still groggy and slightly disgruntled

She mumbles something about needing a cigarette and coffee

And heads to the entrance

I move the car around the corner

Stopping in the middle of the street

Where I reach into my pocket

And pull out my phone

It’s too early to call anybody, but David will understand

And after several rings, he picks up the phone

I tell him that I need to see him

How I’m on my way

And he reluctantly agrees

When he asks what this is all about

My thoughts drift

I think about how last night, misfortune kissed David

How he did nothing wrong

Except he chose the wrong seat at the bar

I answer him, by telling him I have a gift

Something he will enjoy

Something to brighten his day

Meanwhile, as I head to his house

I think of her

Waiting at the Sunrise Cafe

With no smokes

And without me

As I wait at a red light

I reach into my other pocket

I pull out $54.00

$54.00 of David’s money

The same money

Which will soon be in his hands

Payback is a bitch

Just like her

My lover

The thief

I smile, a big smile

As I think of her holding the bill

With no cigarette to smoke

No way to get home

No more nights at my favorite bar

And no money

To pay for the coffee she bought

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Coffee With A Friend

A friend stopped by

To tell me his wife had left him

I didn’t want to be rude

But, I had to ask

How long did he think she was going to stay?

For she was beautiful, he was not

How long did he think it would last?

For she was young, he was not

He said he figured it would last about as long as it did

So I had to ask him another question

How did he know this?

He looked up from his coffee

With heavy, tired eyes

He said he knew she would only stick around

As long as his money did

Then we sat in silence

And finished our coffee

© Dicky J Loweman 2015