I got to the gate
A little bit late.
It wasn’t my fault,
But simply my fate.
I woke up at five in the morning,
A two hour drive to begin
To reach the airport at nine A.M
For a work flight at noon to Berlin.
I’d accounted for all the surprises
And left time for those that I missed.
Or so I thought ’til my Maggy arrived,
Her temperament thoroughly pissed.
I got to the gate
A little bit late.
It wasn’t my fault.
It was mostly my mate.
Turns out my Maggy discovered
Her darlingness wasn’t exclusive,
Though I thought I’d kept my affairs
In Germany fairly elusive.
I managed to exit by quarter to six
With a bit of my Chevy un-smashed.
At quarter past six came the sirens,
Wondering where I had been when I crashed.
I got to the gate
A little bit late.
It wasn’t my fault.
It was Officer Kate.
The cops pointed out my transmission,
Amazed at how far I had drug ‘er.
I’ve never known cables so durable
Or Maggy’s skill with a Louisville Slugger.
My taxi arrived at eleven,
My hope not entirely shattered.
The cops sold my car at an auction
To benefit the domestically battered.
I got to the gate
A little bit late.
It wasn’t my fault,
But I made $398.
I arrived at the gate at noon-thirty
And saw my Boeing depart.
It flew off with my job and my meeting,
But it also flew off with my heart.
So I called up my sweetheart abroad
And cancelled what our evening implied.
Then I called my Maggy, two blessed hours away
And said, “Can you give me a ride?”
I stayed at the gate
Until it was late.
Thanks for listening honey.
Would you care for a date?
The Daily Travesty 