I just said “mate”.
it was a harmless verbal reflex.
something that almost always goes
at the end of any spoken sentence.
you know, like:
“cheers, mate,” or “no thanks, mate.”
or, in this case,
after the area manager
told me to clean the shop windows:
“will do, mate.”
next thing I know
he was jabbing me with his finger,
his nose touching mine, growling
“I am NOT your MATE, I am your SUPERIOR.”
“woah, relax,” I reassured him. “snot like I meant it.
it’s just a verbal reflex. I don’t even like you.”
but that just made him more mad.
I mused, as I fetched the sponge and bucket.
he’s welcome t
o his superiority, I mused,
like I was in any danger
of inheriting it,
as I waited for the tap to run warm.