Lengthy Discussion With The Bell Hop Poem by John W. McEwers

'Get many drunk girls coming in late? '
I realized how that sounded after I'd asked,
I was honestly just wanting rest,
uninterrupted, after my flight from Halifax,
and teams of women had bellowed at my taxi,
skirted and make-upped,
screaming down the sidewalk like sex,
but the Bell Hop at the Hotel in Cleveland
turned around as we walked and gave a face
like I just named his favorite movie,
and I suddenly knew two things:

I didn't have to tip,

and I was home.