\u201cTwo, please\u201d
\nhe had uttered the phrase
\ncountless times
\nin so many places around town
\nsquiring so many
\ndifferent women<\/p>\n
money never a problem
\nsuccess, women
\nfollowed him all his life
\njoined him in misadventures
\nbig, bigger \u2013 even bigger<\/p>\n
a big tipper, gregarious
\neveryone liked to see him
\nhis rotating cast of
\ncompanions, ever amusing,
\nkeeping waiters, barkeeps
\never guessing as to his \u2018type\u2019
\nhis only consistency being
\nhis standard request
\n\u201cTable for two, please.\u201d<\/p>\n
years passed
\ntime took its toll
\nthe world had changed
\nhis kind were no longer the
\n\u2018go to\u2019 for masculine
\nreference<\/p>\n
he still haunted the same
\nplaces
\nknew some
\nof the same faces
\nstill requested
\n\u201cTable for two, please.\u201d
\nthough often as not
\nhe dined alone<\/p>\n
One night, a favorite
\ndinner spot, an old
\nfriend having cancelled
\n\u201cTable for two\u201d
\nfound him alone in his
\nduality
\nlooking around, he
\nsaw families,
\ntables full of
\ntwo, three generations<\/p>\n
He ordered a cocktail
\nsat there, listened to
\nthe din of
\nboisterous laughter
\nsons, daughters,
\ngrandparents,
\ngrandchildren<\/p>\n
surrounded by a cacophony
\nhe knew he
\nwould never grasp
\nhe just sat there, tightly
\ngripping, but not drinking
\nhis drink
\nas tears rolled down
\nhis face.<\/p>\n