This is an off the cuff poem so...

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Who do you think you are?
Some kind of celebrity
To come striding in
Surrounded by your sycophants
And yes-men
To walk right up to me
And beat my ears
For water.

I'm still shiny back here.
Brand spankin' new with the price tag still attatched.
Right off the shelf
And you threaten me
Like somehow you own me.
Throwing your threats in my face
Trying to blind me.

And why pick me, anyway?
I work just as well as the next new item
Right out of the store.
Your threats don't work on me.

Still, I wish I had you here
Right now.
I'd ram that celebrity attitude of yours
Right into the shake machine
Where it belongs.

5 responses total.

Think I misspelled "attached"

I hate the attitudes some people bring to restaurants and stores-- they 
honestly throw all sense of reason out the window because things aren't 
going 100% their way.

Ask her about the story behind it.  It's actually funny as hell.

Not too good, I guess, then.

Nobodies responded but Jon and I.

Then again, maybe it was so good no one felt the *need* to respond.

I guess.

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