She presses her lip against the rim of her pint glass
I try not to get spotted, but she catches me staring
This dive was so dim until she walked in
I mistake her smile for possibility

I offer to buy her next one, she reluctantly accepts
The bartender brings us two Jack Daniels and ice
She sips hers as I stir mine for a minute
Her face tells me she’s not much of a whiskey drinker

We go through number three, four, five
Neither of us really sure what we are talking about
Partly from the booze, but mostly from circumstance
There is absolutely nothing we have in common

At number six I ask to cash out my tab
And this is what men generally call the ‘moment of truth’
She was six deep and a hundred pounds lighter
The poor girl is having trouble with her cigarette

I pull it out of her mouth and light it myself
Take my one drag then jam it back between her lips
She tells me something along the lines of she likes me
Then she tells me all of the things I could do to her

I start to imagine what she looks like in just her panties
She’s imagining me looking at her in just panties
We share a cab and start making out in the back seat
At the next red light she hops out and slams the door

I never see her again, but I do tip the cabbie well

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