blind date

if you could be any
tree in the whole
universe,
or at least on
the planets
that can grow
trees,
she asks you
while drinking her
third glass
of wine, what kind
of tree would
you be. it takes you
a minute or so to
try and decide if
you should even
answer her, or just
pay the bill
and go. you stare
at the exit
sign near
the bathrooms,
but you play
along, because it's
cold out, and
you don't want to
go home just yet,
and there's nothing
good on tv.
oh, i don't know you
say. maybe a weeping
willow, a great big
weeping willow. you throw
your hands into the air
as if you were one.
oh, oh, she sighs,
batting her eyelids.
me too, me too.
that would be my answer
as well. i love
the weeping willows.
i just knew we were
going to get along.
i just knew it.
okay, now what if you
were a bird, she says,
calling the waiter over
for more wine. what kind
of bird...