An amble along the Quay,
thirsty from drinking in the morning,
lunchtime beckoned
and we chose a table.
He savoured slowly
awhile longer and arrived as
we were supping our coffees.
"shall I order you a drink, love?"
she asks, musing over the menu.
"No, I'll go", he smiles, as we return
to beginning to know each other.
Laughter and photographs later,
he returns with a cup of tea and sting
reverberating in his eyes, despite his smile.
Busy morning, aching feet,
the irony of thirsty bar work!
Snapping and barking,
the occasional huff,
she wiped and polished,
served and ticketed, calculated and buttoneered
complicated orders. Damned customers!
she thought - SHE had a different word for THEM!
Damned wheelchairs always wanting the toilet key!
She slammed the key on the bar
rolled her eyes, sighed theatrically
and returned to serving the meals.
"Thanks, love, but I have my own key
Could I please order a cup of tea?"
