One day my waiter hit on me.

He cut his eyes this way and that

And said, "You know you don't ever have to eat alone."

And I said, "Ok, that's good to know,"

And raised my eyebrows

To see if he would care to explain or tell me more.

But it hit me later what he meant,

Tho I never saw him again.

I think he quit working that shift

Or at that restaurant,

Which is too bad, but it made me think,

That when I get tired of eating there,

I'll just find myself a new place,

And maybe my last supper there

Will be a dine and dash

In honor of his hit and run.

Someone should have a little fun with this.

It might as well be me and the local police!

-jenn