We met where the fluorescents hum…
Tenants’ Association, Sub-committee number one.
You wore a name tag… I forgot my own.
We talked of damp walls… but my heart felt like home.

You remarked on my aftershave… “Spicy,” you said,
I noticed your perfume… like warm fresh-baked bread.
We spoke of starch levels… and stain removal tricks,
And I knew in that moment… our true hearts would mix…

Funny, isn’t it? How you can meet someone…
And just know… they understand the importance of…
Presentation.

And love is lost…
Or waiting by the detergent aisle, whatever the cost…
You smiled when I mentioned my lint-free attire…
But I am not the sort of guy… who goes to bingo.

No, not bingo…
Not me, love…
I’m a Woolworth’s bleach and a polished shoe kind of man…
…I thought you understood.

I'm not a bingo kind of guy.