Blackberry iced tea

Bubbling in my troubled stomach.

Nerves shriveled, bundled up into a tangled mass.

Can’t stop my hands from shaking,

Every dizzy sip I take, I’m sucking air.

Worried I might drop my trembling glass.

Eyes dancing everywhere, except for the mirror to my right.

Afraid that if I see my own…

There’s really nowhere left to hide.

There’s a middle-aged couple, two tables away,

Her back’s to me, but I know her husband’s staring.

He’s trying to figure out what’s different

With this picture.

With the young man, whose shaking hands,

Whose nervous eyes, whose clattering glass of ice

Is distracting him from the game on-screen.

The servers are talking football too.

Distraction. It’s already there for me.

Stop thinking. Just sit still…

I don’t eat bacon.

But my plate arrives, and instead of explanation,

I only offer thanks.

I need a way to look natural. Like I’m supposed to be here.

I’m just part of the scene, nothing special.

But I can’t be cool. I know they know I’m wrong.

Iced tea pouring.

Somebody scores.

And soon the room is up in a roar,

This is it, I leave two twenties, and a tip.

Jump up, and run for the door.

I made it to my truck, and can’t help smiling at my luck.

I quickly turn my key,

Then comes a knock.

I freeze.

Time stops.

I’m Blackberry iced tea, I’m frozen solid.

Catching his breath, he says

“You left your wallet.”

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