Last Call

The Hudson River Club, September 10th
I must confess, I love the pumpkin soup.
If memory serves right, at any length…
The waiter pays attention to our group –
no, not quite wolves of Wall St., maybe pups --
the sun is setting over flashy yachts.
The river flows, as does the wine.  Our cups
are never empty.  As my buddy spots
some master of the universe nearby,
I signal “check”.  The waiter reappears.
We might just be the last ones.  Buddy’s high.
The night is young: coke, wine, a bunch of beers…
I text my boss: tomorrow, I’ll be late.
She says: I’ll handle it, I’m in at eight.

Author notes: https://www.chefdb.com/pl/4366/Hudson-River-Club-New-York This is an entirely true story.