After the dinner dance, the Young Rotarians
are putting on a guessing competition and
guess what — you're it! No, I'm kidding,
Christ, cut it out, will you, Karen?
Give her one of those Relaxatabs.
Honestly, the way she picked up
the kitchen knife … are you kids having
a good time? You like the fairy lights?
Let's say we're all involved in a serious
political discussion, and you notice
that the host has spilled — umm —
a Grape Soda all over his lap, do you
mention it to your hostess?
Uh-oh, forget it,
she's lying there whacked out, staring up
at the globe covered with little mirrors
rotating slowly, the beams of light
splashing off her amethyst choker. Look,
let's forget about the dance, I just
wanted to see you again.
I've been stuck here all winter
with no one to talk to but the kangaroos.
I want to get a good look at you
with your pants off — No,
not you, lamebrain. Slip this
piece of paper to the band-leader,
will you? And meet me outside,
we'll share a cold beer and
you can tell me what they mean, these
circulating couples, these proposals.