dinners are for closers

i run into my friend jimmy

at the dry cleaners,

he's getting 

his white pants cleaned after

spilling tomato

sauce on them

when a woman

from plenty of fish 

threw a plate of linguine at him

for making fun of Oprah.

that's it, he says.

i'm done with buying women

dinners on those

stupid dating sites.

from now on, dinners are for

closers.

what do you mean, i ask him,

as i put my t-shirts up

on the counter.

no more free meals or

three glasses of wine

until we're getting busy.

what do you mean by getting busy?

you know, he says,

who's your daddy, that sort

of thing.

oh, you mean sex, i whisper.

yes. he whispers back. sex.

i don't mind feeding them

if there's something in it for me,

but most of the time,

it's one and done

and i'm out a hundred and twenty

bucks.

i never see them again.

so that's it, dinner is for closers.

it's my new policy.

great, i tell him, let me know how

that works out.

maybe we can do a march

downtown one day

to support the movement.

hey Joe, i yell to the guy

behind the counter, 

go easy on the starch

this time, okay?

these are my best t-shirts.