Tuesday, July 7, 2009


he was nice
and all
but when he came in
he’d order a bottle of beer
and a glass
he’d dump half the bottle in
with no grace
no class
so that there’d be one inch of beer
and four inches of foam
and then he’d drink
sometimes order food
and at the end of his first bottle
he’d look at me and wink
“there’s a hole in this bottle, ha!”
“there must be,” I’d wink back
snapping open his second
after his two beers
and listening to the live jazz
he’d swipe at his throat with two fingers
and I’d give him his tab
he’d tip me well
and say, “see you next week, Jack.”
usually I’d smile and say, “take care.”
but this week I just smiled
and thought, “no you won’t.”
because it was my last shift
behind another bar

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