made-to-order meals of regret,
the Burger King near Barclays
is a terrible place for a first date.
But it is a good place to start,
because, despite being greasy,
everything will be downhill from here,
a true test to humor and heart.
She dug the idea,
and went further to suggest
we just eat there,
and so we woofed Whoopers.
The idea was to meet at a funny place,
and then head into the city
to grab food, see a movie,
and hopefully make out on a bench.
But we ended up
talking music over Dr. Peppers,
before jumping on the 2 train
at Nevins and Fulton.
A retro orchestra on the metro,
we share headphones, one ear each,
and listen as Waxahatchee waxes poetic,
making memories that mean the world.
The movie sucked,
the making out was magical,
but the most wonderful thing is
no matter what happens we will always have that Burger King in Brooklyn.