Whenever I saw you,
you would take my hand,
and tell me to say,
“How ya doin’, boss?”
You swore that was the key to getting any job.
At a Rotary Crab Feed,
you saw someone wearing a low cut dress.
You were disgusted.
“Never let anyone see that much of you
unless you intend for them to.”
You left it at that
and, to this day, I dress very modestly.
When we had lunch,
You asked about my love life.
I’d just gotten out of a relationship.
Instead of saying something comforting,
you told me not to date someone
who didn’t want to be a Rotarian.
They weren’t trustworthy to you.
Once you asked me what my political party was.
I told you.
“Oh, good, I was worried
you might end up
like your father.”
You told me to never change parties.