Dating in the Eighties
Poem for Day 337 – 20151204
Call the parent's crib,
father on the phone,
cornered for a greeting
at the family home.
I'll be dating in the eighties,
meeting in the mall,
sipping orange Julius
while we watch the shoppers crawl.
New age meeting at it's best,
review the video tapes
find the matching partner
at the dating service
Beep me on my pager,
I've got the hottest tech.
I know it's for work
but boy it wows the chicks.
Personals in the newspaper,
cheapest way to go,
no pictures, only letters,
SWM for SWF.
I don't know what to wear,
denim jacket would be fine
but tonight I am hot
in my Member's Only top.
The blind dates are mysterious.
no way to know the catch
when all there is to know
is what you friends do share.
We met there in the club,
the neighborhood watering hole.
Numbers to exchange,
that's all we can disclose.
Later the fancy dinner,
only the best for us!
We'll go to Steak and Ale
and eat that fine fondue.
No distractions at the meal,
cept for the pager at the hip.
Numbers only may be displayed
we'll turn it off this fine day.
Time to chill at home
video tape from Blockbuster.
Rewind before the nookie
or there will be a fine!
Sex by the old fashion
gadgets used in person.
Gotta meet together
for the cuddle cuddle.
Let me have your number
the one to the landline
what else would you mean?
I don't have one in the car!
Phone numbers been misplaced
handy device to find the one
let the fingers to the walking
through the book of white pages.
Perhaps now we must depart,
break off this once great thing,
here is the shirt you left
no websites to update.
At worst you may stalk me,
sit in the parking lot.
This is how we ended it
dating in the Eighties.
© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.