Weatherspoons, The Roebuck – Nottingham

Closing time draws near. We are planning where to go next.
The bar tenders start to clear the tables, closing down for the night.

One of the bar tenders has been wiping the tables next to where we are sitting. He is called away.

He has been gone for over ten minutes already.
He has left his cleaning stuff on the table so he will be back.

I pick out a card, and put it on the table.

We carry on talking, finishing our drinks. I forget all about it. Until I see him walk back over.

I watch him.
I wonder if he will pick it up,
Or if he will ignore it.

He goes to pick up his spray and cloth.
But stops.
He has seen the card.

He picks it up.
He reads it.
A small smile creeps across his face.
And in turn across mine.

He tucks it into his shirt pocket,
And carries on cleaning with a smile on his face.