Omelette Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

What you wish for

It was Friday we were going out for a meal in the evening
I had visualized a fat pork chop with furrows of fat in the meat
whatever you say fat food taste better than chicken.
Since it was evening my wife thought an omelette would be
right for me and the waitress agreed - she is a friend-
But a few glasses of red wine were ok.
After eating the omelette, drinking the wine, I wondered if
they were patronizing me, so I had whisky with coke.
I tell you I was not drunk, but I felt an irresistible need to
tell a story, standing up and let my voice boom to drown
the audience with my erudition; it was not on,
we come home to catch the nine o`clock news.