The creepy old guy sits at the strip
club stage
but turns down every offer of private
attention
Mostly he watches the foolish young
men, envying their lack of sense
The only man in the place who is aware
of his own pathos
The young girls see him as a challenge
The older ones know better and leave
him alone
Fidelity pushed slightly over his own
personal limit
He grins at the beautiful woman with
the odd lipstick and large rear
She approaches him
He buys her a drink, some hideous
cinnamon liqueur,
but rejects her offer of a shower show
She asks for his business card but he
feigns their existence
She tells him a phone number that he
promises to remember
but doesn't
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Talk to me dude