An invitation from Andy did not reach fruition -
A nip of his favorite tipple was an omission
I finally could not tolerate and thus did my own thing -
Invested in a bottle Andy assured would bring some zing
My oh my – zing it did but for all the wrong reasons;
My tastebuds told me ‘twas decayed organic accretions,
‘Earthy’ would cover it quite nicely and I, a devotee
Of single malt scotch rebalanced that against my throat’s plea.
No more; what to do? A body rub? Let’s give it a go…
It was peaty the small print bottle label declared, and so,
That ‘earthy’ might project my masculinity to someone….
But the café lady I quite fancied would disappear to the kitchen on my approach – no more fun!