The Dude in Front of Me

In a long line up at the bank today,

Things were moving interminably slow,

And as we stood you could feel the dismay,

For these busy folk had places to go.

Now well dressed was the dude in front of me,

Certainly a man to be respected;

The way he carried himself you could see,

He was not the type to be neglected.

And so as ever longer became the wait,

You could sense he was one angry 'feller';

Yes, from his body you could feel the hate -

Until finally he reached the teller.

And there she stood wearing a pretty smile;

Just a kid, likely not long out of school.

When this dude before me in the aisle

Suddenly let loose blowing his lost cool.

Now the poor girl’s face went red as a beet,

And she looked like she might break into tears;

And what the old dude said I’ll not repeat,

But his finances I’d say were in arrears.

And yes I’ll tell you his behavior stank;

What gave him the right to treat her that way?

And you know I was there to rob the bank;

But dammit I felt something I should say.

So I pulled my gun and stuck it in his face.

“Is that the way to treat someone?” I said.

When suddenly a cheer rang through the place;

As the son of a bitch I robbed instead.