Though now and then the guys stay on too late;
you’re cleaning down when they decide to sing;
you don’t mind much; in fact, you're glad to wait.

Some days you think you’re working under cover for Relate:
You’ve listened to his woes until you're bored out of your skin.
He wants to save his marriage but his wife won’t – conjugate.

So, come closing time, he'll press you for a date.
You tell him 'no' but he's convinced you're gagging for a fling.
He’s twice your age and several times your weight.

Past midnight now: he’s in an awful state.
your feet ache and your patience has worn dangerously thin.
You wonder was it Kismet, was it Fate?
What made you think that bar work would be great?