my treat

my friend would often forget his wallet
whenever he offered
to take me out to dinner
for a birthday,
or some occasion.

the four seasons, no problem.
the palm,
Morton's.

there would be four of us, and he'd
order food and wine, more
than any of us could eat.

then the bill would come, and he'd
search his coat, his pants,
his car,
no wallet, no money, no credit
card.

he did this many times. after awhile,
I stop going out with him.

but it wasn't just me he was doing
this to.
not paying his rent, his lease
on his Mercedes, his bills.
cheating clients out of deposits.
the list of his grievances

was endless.

let's go out to dinner, he'd
say with a slap on the back,
a big smile, a wide salesman
grin.

my treat, again.