I'm in a bit of a pissy mood tonight, and when you're in a pissy mood, sometimes there's nothing better than a poem.
Guy A and Guy B
I sat on the couch in your parents’ living room.
You sat in the chair across from me.
I said I wanted to ask you out before anyone else did,
because I’d heard some other guys were thinking about it;
I had to beat them to the punch.
And you said yes, but you had to wonder,
and I knew you had to wonder,
“Who are the other guys?”
And after we watched Tom Hanks do his best with subpar material,
we ate crab legs,
and you must have been thinking,
“Where would Guy A and Guy B have taken me? A place that serves duck and lamb instead?”
I eat duck and lamb now. But I grew up eating meatloaf and mashed potatoes.
For me, crab was a stretch.
You’re lucky I didn’t take you to a place that served
scalloped potatoes and ham. That was a staple in my home.
So was beef stroganoff.
And tuna casserole.
For you, I ordered bottom dwellers.
By comparisson, a delicacy.
When I graduated, you wrote me a letter and got me a pen.
It was engraved.
And I wondered, “What did you get for Guy A and Guy B?”