the happy hour

the happy hour
became a four hour event
on Fridays.
we were young
in our
cheap suits,
bad ties
and shoes.
we unwound after a few
drinks,
talking about how
much we hated the boss,
the work,
the office
in general.
it's like taking coal
out of a mountain,
someone said. we rowed
this boat all night long.
by eleven we were
exhausted
from drinking, singing,
flirting,
saying things we wished
we hadn't said.
sometimes we'd stagger
home alone,
other times,
we had company.
Monday came too early.