Tickets

I wait for you in the deli down the street,
Anticipating, hoping, uneasy,
Trying to blend in because I don't intend to buy anything.
Time sucks at the tickets in my pocket.
They won't be worth much in a few minutes.
Is it legal to scalp them?
No matter.
A guy a few chairs away with a
Messenger bag and dark greased-back hair
Is staring at me,
I look away, but return to see his eyes still drilling into me,
Unnerving.
I get up to confront him but
He looks past me and
I realize he was flirting with a girl
Sitting behind me.
Where are you?
Is this the lesson I have so long deserved,
Or just the second misunderstanding of the day?

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
 Photo by Poem Fix