U2 – Dirty Day

He pulled me away from her
and asked what I was doing.
Shouting over the bar noise:
"Don’t you think
she’s had enough?"

I looked back at the girl,
– the beautiful girl –
finishing her drink
– her third beautiful drink –
that I’d bought her
within the hour.

"Don’t worry,"
I said,
"She knows her tolerance
better than we do."
He looked at me
and looked at her.
He didn’t look sure.

She’d come into the bar
looking to unwind
and all I was doing
was helping her accomplish her mission.
Why did this guy
– this holier than thou
almighty man guy –
have to judge me
and ruin the momentum?

"Excuse me," he said to her,
"Can I get you a cab?"
She seemed very appreciative
of his attention.

What a dick.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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