(A little catharsis isn’t a bad thing, right?)
It was twenty to four this fateful day.
And no one yet had come to play.
The clerk, she took her food in hand.
To eat her lunch was what she planned.
No sooner had she sat down to eat,
When a ticket bearer spelled her defeat.
The person entering would stay for a while;
So, the clerk stood and forced her best smile.
“Oh, you’re eating. I’m very sorry.”
“It’s an occupational hazard, you see.”
She took the tickets to the machine.
Grateful that her sneer could not be gleaned.
It beeped the winners; the receipts she’d print.
Hoping beyond hope this would be a short stint.
Tickets were traded, money changed hands.
The clerk returned to her original plan.
Three bites were taken, and two sips in.
The camper, with winners, had come back again.
This would go one for thirty minutes or more.
The clerk forever hoping they’d stay out the door.
The clerks never have a set time for lunch.
This is why our panties are all in a bunch.
If you catch us eating and you want to gamble,
Don’t get angry if you don’t get a preamble.