I was in a bar once,
at a table, celebrating someone's
birthday.
a swanky place, with chain
link
curtains,
marble, glass and steel.
blue lights.
the waitresses dressed in leather
skirts and fishnet
stockings.
we all ordered martinis,
the six of us around the table,
and out they came on a teetering
tray
carried by a young waitress
in heels,
wobbling all the way.
when she reached our table,
she tripped
and down
they all came on top of me.
glasses, tray and all,
six apple martinis
on my head, my clothes
onto my lap.
the waitress ran away, screaming,
out the door she went,
down the street, she's probably
still running.
they offered to pay for dry
cleaning, but I said nah, it's okay,
and ordered
another drink.
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