Saturday, March 20, 2010

Dispute

I simply couldn't eat another bite,
That's all I whispered to the maitre d'
When he approached and tried to hector me
About the menu and my appetite,
Too tiny to appease him, and in spite
He claimed that I had ordered the split pea
And not the onion soup, which, you must see,
Was neither gentlemanly nor polite.

So now that I have noted on the bill
My strong objection, and the manager
Can see how staff has only lied to her,
Perhaps this outlaw waiter will keep still,
And you can let the change sit in the till
As if it were a tip, as I'd prefer.

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