restaurant love

Restaurant Love

I’m so
old now
that I
can fall
down in
front of
a restaurant
& beautiful
women bend
to help
me up.


And so
I
do it.


I hang
around until
a woman
with good
legs &
a sympathetic
countenance
steps out
onto the
sidewalk &
then down
I go.


Nine times
out of
ten she
bends over
me &
reaches out
a hand.


I take
her hand
& let
her pull
me halfway
up then
fall down
again pulling
her on
top of me.


I’ve been
at it
for over
a month now.


Sometimes I
pretend to
go into
a fit
while she’s
helping me
up &
arch
my body
into hers.


Other times
I pretend
to be
unconscious &
hold my
breath so
she thinks
I’ve stopped
breathing &
gives me
mouth-to-mouth.


But sometimes
things take
an unexpected
twist when
I try
this.


The other
day a
woman instead
of giving
me mouth-
to-mouth
straddled
me her
dress riding
high up
her thighs
& began
pounding on
my chest.


It was
painful but
thru hooded
eyes I
saw her
breasts quivering
under her
thin blouse
with each
blow she
delivered.


& when
I gasped
as if
I could
breathe again
(thanks
to her
first aid)
my fluttering
fingers came
to rest
upon her
thighs.


The only
time
things really
backfired was
when I
pretended to
be in
a confused
state-of-mind
& held
the woman
in my
arms &
while kissing
her face
& neck
whispered
the name
of an
old lover.


It turned
out it
was her
name too
& I
wound up
at the
police station
where I
was interrogated
for eight
hours straight.


But now
I’ve covered
all the
quality
restaurants
in town
& what’s
left are
places like
Burger King.


What will
it say
about my
moral character
if I
stoop
that low?

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