Sitting in a Bar, Talking to French Folk

Would you believe?

Let’s meet somewhere, Jay.
Let’s have a couple beers, Jay.
I’ll be on time, you wicked dime.
Don’t worry, I’ll see you at 8.

I’m in the car, Jay.
Five minutes at most, Jay.
Have a beer on me, I’ll be there in 3.
Don’t worry, just a little late.

I’m two blocks away, Jay.
I’m one block away, Jay.
Did you have a beer? Let me be clear:
Almost there, but I can’t stay.

Work, Jay.
I’m sorry, Jay.
Maybe next week… if I’m not busy.
It’s just I… have a habit of making grand escapes–

I stay up late and never get dressed–
stressed,
this fucking job has me regretting
I ever got a degree in business
I just want you and I want your love
but all I know is numbers and bluffs and tough oppsition, attrition, and depositions…
I want to drink a beer and see your face again, Jay.
I miss you, your voice and your grin, Jay.
I want you to stay, Jay,
with me
at my house
in my bed
so I never have to leave you in a bar alone ever again.

Please, Jay.
I’m crying, Jay.
I need you. So why don’t you
Just turn around and let me say
I love you, Jay.
Believe me, Jay.
Believe me.
See me,
Jay.

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