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The womans weight shifts
like jello;from side to side,
as we watch her tan dress shake from behind,
the bartender jokes about what's on her mind.
The evening started out like a jr-high school dance,
the women clutterred closely, the men await their chance.
As they sip away their reality,
I collect their dollar bills, some are folded up like flowers,
all done for silly frilly thrills.
I guess I understand,and with slight of hand,
I set them down their drink
because friday is the night that it's alright
to release the mind from what we think.
There are some who get a room
and some who leave alone,
though in the morning they return,
to those same rules set in stone.
One day I hope to reminisce,
the wild nights of college years,
If I'm lucky I'll have a husband and kids
and a credit card for Sears,
One thing I know is I don't want to be stuck here.
It scares me to see experienced eyes,
still with that look of unknowing fear,
And it seems to me that the ones who are slurring...
Are unfortunately the most sincere.
After I count my money, I head strait for my car,
But tonight I'm really tired,
so for me there won't be a pit-stop at my corner bar.
(memoirs of cocktail waitress days)
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