deepundergroundpoetry.com

Expectations

The moment
he sat down
she was thinking,
"He's going to try
to talk to me.

Probably use the oldest lines
in the book.

'What's a nice girl like you
doing in a place like this?'

Or maybe
he will try
one of those stupid games like
'I hope you have good insurance
because you just broke my heart.'

No, he's the really
juvenile kind like,
'What's your sign?
"My place or yours?"'"

He did look at her,
past her,
beyond her,
and walked over
and sat
in a private booth.

She followed his eyes
and he found the waitress.

He motioned her over,
whispered
into her ear
and ordered,
and in a few minutes
two drinks appeared.

And he waited.
She watched him wait.

And he waited.

Finally,
she got down
off of her stool,
sashayed on over
to his table
and looked him
right in the eye,
"Starting kind
of early
on a hard night?"

He looked up
at her
and then
only slightly
squinted his eyes
and stirred his drink
before taking a sip.

"Expecting someone?"
she noted,
looking over
at the melting ice
in the second drink.

He took another sip,
and then,
in a spiral,
moved his glass
to the center
of the table,
still not talking,
but motioning
to the waitress,
who was hovering
in the near distance.

"Is this seat taken?"
she firmly asked.

"Well,"
he finally said,
"those are some
of the oldest lines
in the book.

I was expecting you.
The seat is yours.  
Would you like some dinner?"

She liked him already.

runningturtle87
Written by runningturtle87
Published
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