your zipper's down

she says
to me while
we're standing
at the bar
waiting for
a table, and
you've misbuttoned
your shirt, she
points with a
red nailed
finger, you
started one
hole too soon,
go ahead and
look, plus there's
a coffee stain
on your jacket.
and your chin
is still bleeding
from nicking
yourself with the
razor, oh, and
more thing, there's
toilet paper
stuck to your
shoe. anything else,
i ask her, sipping
my martini, yes,
she says, there's
a little piece
of green olive
stuck between
your two front
teeth now. we're
not having sex later,
are we, i ask her,
taking another gulp
of my stiff drink,
i don't know, she
says. we'll see.
you've got alot
of work to do.