The New Poem Game

We were all at Buffalo Wild Wings when one of my teammates told me that he wanted to talk to one of the waitresses. He didn’t know which one, and he didn’t know how he would do it, but he knew he wanted to. It seemed as though one week in North Dakota had quickly become too long to not attempt to find a woman. 

I was very willing to help. Why not? The guy obviously wanted to have fun with it and also hopefully take a phone number with his to-go box as we left the building. All 8 of us there that night knew that if I was to get involved that it could get a little bit ridiculous. I mean, let’s face it. Everybody had heard the rumors about my blog and my antics. New guys were curious and returning guys were astonished at how much hype tmrb had gotten since that championship game day back in April. 

My teammate finally asked me exactly what we should do. I told him that I have written poetry to a woman before. Although he didn’t know who Jenna Fischer was, he understood that if I wrote a poem to an actress, I could easily whip one up for a BWW server who was probably already feeling him. I agreed that I would write a poem as long as he agreed to give it to one of them — no chickening out. 

He asked the server of our table for something to write on. She brought back a pen and some blank receipts and handed them to him. He handed them to me and I got to work. Here’s what I came up with on the fly: 

Roses are red, violets are blue, 

I see a good match between me and you 

Dont mind this note, I do what I can, 

You be a woman, I’ll be a man 

Every time I see you, my heart sings, 

Thats why I come to Buffalo Wild Wings 

My boys don’t think I have what it takes, 

To enjoy a bowl of frosted flakes 

With you the next morning after out date, 

I’m just a mammal looking for a mate 

I dont know exactly how these things go, 

But, do you like me? 

Yes No 

My teammate showed the poem around the table and everyone laughed at the words, but now it was time to see if it was all jokes or if it would actually pay him some dividends. He got up and handed it to one of the servers he thought smiled at him when we came in. We all watched eagerly as she read the note and laughed to herself. Success? Had to be, but we wouldn’t be sure until she came back to our table. 

She had the server of our table bring back a note that read: 

“I think you’re handsome, charming, and sweet, but maybe your boys are right! You might not have what it takes to eat this momma’s frosted flakes!” 

I personally thought that the first note was successful. Her response seemed to not only challenge his ability to get her, but also kind of dared him to try. On top of all that were the sexual implications of the frosted flakes being eaten. We decided to fire back with something that relayed his ability, confidence, and sexual aptitude. He actually thought he should keep it sweet and innocent like the poem, but since I knew I was gonna blog it, I kept it hot to get a good reaction: 

“Well the thing about me you may not know is that I have a big spoon and an even bigger appetite!” 

We watched from a distance as she read the note. Her jaw dropped and she quickly closed her mouth. She peered over at us as we desperately tried not to laugh. Her eyes kind of lit up and she couldn’t hold back her smile. She scribbled something down for a while then had our server bring it back to us. It read: 

“The only thing that’s on is you, 

Simmer down baby and just enjoy the view. 

A big appetite is just not me, 

So put your big spoon in your own mouth where it needs to be! 

You’re a sweetheart! Thanks for the lines, 

but maybe some other time!” 

Damn. Lost it. My teammate accused me of taking it too far. It is entirely possible that I did take it too far, but hey, if he thought he could get her number by himself, then he should have written his own coddamn poem! 

Well, after this ordeal, we decided that whenever we go to a restaurant, that I will write a different poem for him to give to a waitress who he is eying. Thus, the poem game has officially begun. I’ll be sure to post all the poems and reactions here. 

Hollar.

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