Steve & Pia
my favorite regulars always come in five minutes before close,
stay for an hour.
met online before it was cool, made
small talk with me before it was, too.
Steve, who always brings in new pictures of Pia to show me,
stole my email from the list up front to send another —
and, I want to tell him about the table of men I served once who asked for drink recommendations. looking to quench their thirst
(I knew they meant it that way
yes
but also the other way, too).
how I told them I did not really know
explained eighteen
how the oldest man left me his number,
said he would love to take me out sometime
(I knew he meant it that way
yes
but also the other way, too).
Pia, who told me my fishnets were incredibly hot,
always asks if I have to take the garbage out alone.
know that she has never had to study the lore of men to understand the ones who will wait for me to carry out the bags and plan every way I could
be caught,
folded,
bent,
to fit inside.
Steve, who calls us his heroes and means it.
Pia, who asks how I am and wants to know.
Steve & Pia who always tip $2.69,
or $4.20,
or terribly.
Steve & Pia who have fancy cameras in their house just to scream at the cats when they are away; or, to put outside of the bedroom door they say I can always stay in if I would feel safer falling asleep certain that no one could come in.
Steve & Pia, who, when I invite them to my show
say Hey
This Is So Cool
We Will Be There -- and they will.
Steve knows I love Pia.
Pia, divine dreamboat.
Pia, who speaks Estonian.
Pia, split down the middle, scraped, and sewn back together again.
Pia, who almost called off their wedding because his gift was not thoughtful enough:
said Here; This Is How I Need You To Love Me.
Steve who listened —
carved her ring with Forever.
said Okay; This Is How Long I Will -- and he will.
Steve was not planning on her meeting me at the time, so I will let him keep his promise —
let him be there for broken hips, and
dentures,
taking advantage of Canadian citizenship insurance.
Steve, who I trust to walk drunk Pia to the car,
to drive her home
and take off her shirt only to put a softer one back on.
Steve & Pia who I forgive for being straight and calling each other kitty.
Steve & Pia who always walk through the doors after I have drained the wash —
after everything sweet has been tucked into plastic beds,
and every fingerprint wiped from every glass.
I will never stop staying late for you guys.