Oh well.

Oh well.

The psychologist

There was a time

When I spoke to people

Even standing at the bar

Made eye contact

Smiled a little, said ‘Hi’

Tried to be friendly

It worked for a while

I could keep people talking

With a nod here, a ‘that sounds interesting’

There

Sometimes if it was a guy

We could go a round each

Unlike me, the

Women always looked better

After a second drink

The smiles wider

The teeth whiter

I looked out for the pale line of the wedding band

So many sad stories

It was a bit like being at work

Everything went well

Until they asked what I did

After all, they had shared all of their details

The office letch, the boss who blocked

A promotion unless sex was part of the package

The guy with marital problems

Who thought it was a good idea

To go home after a skinful

In tears and hope his wife

Would take pity

Put him to bed

Perhaps get in with him

It hadn’t happened yet

But he was still trying to be positive

Looking on the bright side

‘Just one more drink before I go’

I was always slow to say what I did

But some people were persistent

After a third drink

They considered themselves a good judge

Of character

And tried to guess

Why did women think I was an obstetrician

And the guys a city trader

I obfuscated

Maybe I could say I was a writer

But I have made no money out of that

I ran with it for a while

Until the rope tightened

There is only so far you can run

From the truth

And I whisper

My professional title

It seems like the weather changes

The room goes cold

Shivers pass over frightened faces

Eyes slide away into the distance

They mouth

A perfectly formed ‘O’

Before their heads turn from side to side

Calculating an escape protocol

Sometimes they ask if I can read minds

‘And here I am telling you all of my secrets’

It doesn’t take long for the quarantine

To come into effect

Pretty soon I am an island

I have tried different bars

I told people I was an unemployed food-taster

My taste buds were all shot

From too much chilli

It wasn’t a good cover story

When all I ate came out of a packet

Or a bottle

I guess that’s why I stopped going out

If I am going to drink alone

I might as well stay home.