POEM OF THE WEEKby Tom Miller - 10/01/98
40 dollar poem
I was working the front door
of the gay bar
not the best a man can do
but the pay is good
and up came the old black fellow
waving hello
yeah,
I said
hello
so,
he said
what’s it cost to get in this place
and I said
3 dollars
whoowee!
Three dollars?
Shit!
he had been in once before
I think
for happy hour
when we don’t charge cover
and I remember he had
two draft beers
on special
50 cents each
and that broke him
but he was having beer
and it was good
so there we were,
he and I.
you got some change you can spare?
He asked
because I need something to eat.
No,
I said
not until I get paid.
oh, okay,
he said.
and a guy came in
and he asked the guy
you got some change you can spare?
And the guy walked past him
up to me and said,
can I just look in here to see
if my girlfriend is inside?
and I said,
sure,
just give me your I.D.
so i know you're here.
he went in and the
black guy walked outside
then the guy looking
for his girlfriend
came back and said,
she’s not here and he left.
A girl came from inside.
have you seen my boyfriend?
She asked.
Then the boyfriend returned.
oh, there you are,
they said
and hugged.
Can I go in for a few minutes
with my girlfriend?
he asked,
and I said,
just for a few or else
you’ll have to pay.
They went inside and
the black guy came back.
can I just go in for a minute?
He asked.
We stop the cover charge in ten minutes,
I replied.
Wait ten minutes, and it’ll be okay.
Alright,
he said.
He went back outside
and then
the girl came up.
he’s being a dick,
she said.
She began to cry.
He’s being an asshole!
She went back in.
the boyfriend came back.
where is she?
He asked.
I don’t know,
i said,
but your time’s up.
he said,
can I just go in and look for her?
And I said,
listen,
it’s a 3 dollar cover charge.
Just for a second,
he said.
I promise I’ll leave just as
soon as I find her.
Fine. go on then,
I said.
And he went back in the club.
then the black guy came back.
can I go in yet?
He asked.
Five more minutes,
I said.
Okay, he said.
And he went back outside.
Then the boy and girl
came back arm in arm.
Thanks, pal.
Really.
Thanks.
He handed me two dollars.
What’s this for?
I asked.
Just for dealing with all the
trouble. He said. I’m sorry.
You don’t have to,
I said.
Keep it, he said.
They kissed and left.
I folded the two dollars up
and put them in my pocket.
Can I go in yet,
he asked.
It was the black fellow again.
go.
I said.
I waved him on
and he went inside.
The boss came over.
good job tonight,
he said.
He handed me two
20 dollar bills.
I folded them up and
put them in my pocket.
Thanks,
I said.
The boss left and
the black man came back
a few minutes later.
No money in there,
he said.
I reached into my pocket,
and pulled out 2 bills.
I kept it hidden in my fist and
handed it to him.
what’s this?
He asked.
Two bills,
I said.
2 dollars.
Keep it.
now you can get
something to eat.
Thanks, man,
he said. and
See you for happy
hour.
Take care,
I said.
And he left.
Later that night
after cleaning up
beer cans
vomit
and the ashtrays,
I went home
on my bike.
i Went to the bedroom,
took off my shoes and socks,
my shirt,
my pants,
and sat naked
in the air conditioning.
I reached into the pocket
of my pants
to get the 20s.
pulled out 2 singles.
I’ll be goddamned,
I said.
Sonovabitch!
then I poured a glass of wine
and wrote this poem
this 40 dollar poem
and it's all i have
for now
because I won’t see my rich friend
at happy hour ever again.
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