and pressed against a pert young lady
whose cleavage I'd admired all evening,
I whispered to her how nice her breasts were.
She gave no acknowledgement or reaction
but her friend beside her got very upset -
"How dare you talk about my friend's breasts !
You should be ashamed of yourself, you arsehole !"
"It was meant as a compliment, nothing more.
Just like you've got very nice legs."
"Oh." She huffed and looked away.
The logjam shifted and we squeezed outside
like coloured toothpaste from the tube.
I watched them walk ahead of me
then went my usual own way home.
I hadn't noticed her legs before.
They weren't anything special.
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