(the bratty child)
the bratty child is grown up & is
now a server at one of my favorite
bistros. she still has that entitled puss
on her face like she’s way too good to be
working at this posh establishment.
she recognizes me. i know, although she
pretends not to. whatever, i don’t care,
i’m drinking at the bar, munching on free
gourmet yummys. she doesn’t like it that
i’m on her turf. well, i just wandered in.
i’m not gonna stay. although i should just
to piss her off. will she tell her dad?
of course, i don’t care. i’m just drinking here.
that was years ago. i’m no longer mad.