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.

"What?"
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.