I love Reisling
She’s flirting with me and I am getting paid to smile at her.
I’m sure she loves Reisling. I pour her the glass of Skoures.
I’m waiting for a schoolgirl giggle. She is trying so hard.
What pushes, on a Sunday night, a grown woman to this?
She leaves two dollars and wanders into the room. She is
alone with a laptop working in a corner.
This is all suddenly sad as hell. I think I will pour myself
some whiskey. I grab the nearest bottle and it is vodka.
And there it is.