At the old folk club
where I spent all of my time
the waitress came over
bent to my ear and said,
“The lady wants to buy you a drink.”

I looked around
but couldn’t find the lady.
The waitress pointed.
The lady nodded.
I recognized her. That was no lady;
that was my friend.

“What would you like?”
The waitress asked.
“I don’t much want a drink,”
I said, “can I get some eggs instead?”
She looked at me funny.
“Eggs.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’ll check.”
She went to my friend.

The waitress came back, shaking her head.
“She said ‘Give the man his eggs!’”
“I like eggs,” I grinned.

It’s not like I don’t drink
but I eat a lot more than I drink
and the eggs
came with toast!
They were the price of a soft drink, too.
I was a cheap date for my friend.

When I got my eggs
I said thanks to the waitress
and tipped a forkful to my friend
across the room.
She nodded in return.

The eggs were good.