She flickers her fur boa just as rehearsed,
aroused by the concept of roles reversed.
Another night at Phillies where studs are thin,
perhaps the odds will improve with a tall glass of gin.
Introductions worn thin by conversation so terse
She gathered her nerves along with her purse.
“Neither of these clods can pass minimal inspection”,
she muttered in a voice full of disdainful inflection.
Striding for the door, house-gin fueling her speech;
she grabbed one of their arms, the first within reach.
“There’s no carriage outside, and I’m no Cinderella;
but the mood has struck me for a strapping young fella!”