Not My Corner Bar

I sat on a barstool.
On both sides of me were attractive women.
They faced away from me talking to attractive men.

I sipped my Guinness.
I tore myself in two listening to both conversations.
I tore myself in two over a lot of mundane nothings.

I held myself together in the bar room mirror.
The mirror allowed me to see both women’s faces.
The one on my right wore a darker shade of lipstick.

She also showed more cleavage.
She also flicked her hair regularly with her left hand.
She also drank quickly and ordered another.

When I entered the bar earlier I thought I wanted a Guinness.
I was wrong. I wanted human interaction.
Bartenders are priceless while placing an order.

Here I was sandwiched between two interactions.
Neither was mine to share in.
I stole some of each interaction for myself.

After taking another sip I realized this was a downer.
I got up and left my half-full half-empty pint.
I left the stolen interactions as a tip on the bar.

Inadvertently I bumped the woman on my left.
I apologized but the man she talked to decided to stand up.
He got all tough and in my face.

I asked if he got all tough and in my face
to show off and increase his chances of getting laid?
Or for the fun of it?

Hearing me he had the good sense to back down.
Not because I am tough.
But because the muscular bouncer was on his way over.

Anyway the girl had grabbed his arm.
If he’d taken a swing at me he’d have elbowed her nose.
Maybe a girl on his arm was all he wanted?

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

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