“I remember…when people started making out…
in seventh grade.” – Comedian Mike Birbiglia
Everybody’s doing it. Meeting somebody there.
So drop us off at the corner. And thanks, Dad
For the cash I’ve balled inside my sweaty right
Hand, because my left one is busy untwirling
The one good curl I managed to clamp with a wand.
Everybody’s in line, but I don’t see him yet.
Oh no, there he is. Order me a Pepsi or Mountain
Dew, a medium popcorn while I duck into the ladies
Room to pee and apply my Bonne Bell chapstick
And clear gloss as sealant. Excuse me, pardon me.
I’m back. I’m in the dark. Pass the Twizzlers,
Would you? Anybody want this Snickers? Shhhh.
It’s too hot for this jacket. Lights are dimming.
Everybody’s paired up. Boy/girl, boy/girl. Yawn–
He stretches his arm across my velvet seat back.
Why is everybody doing it? Making these idiotic
Moves? Talking during the movie, laughing at all
The wrong parts, fumbling for more chapstick, a
Fresh piece of gum, taking mental notes on 007
And the Bond girls. Why can’t we all just relax?
He leans across my chest to grab a handful
Of popcorn. Don’t have a cow, man.
Written for Real Toads