Some people sigh for a waiter who's humble, Fawning and cringing and honied and sweet, One who will smirk though you sputter and grumble Kicking at everything offered to eat; Others like garçons most proud and élite Waiters who radiate hauteur and tone, Some people ask for a servant who's fleet, I want a waiter who'll let me alone. I want a waiter who'll forbear to fumble Glasses and spoons as I loll in my seat, One who won't lean over closely and mumble Hints of things needed my meal to complete; One who will stay at a distance discreet, Not stick as close as a dog to a bone, One who won't walk up and down—and repeat!— I want a waiter who'll let me alone! Yea, he may spot me with soup, he may stumble Spilling my viands and treading my feet, His voice may be only an insolent rumble, His fingernails black and his checking a cheat, But oh, if he'll leave me in peace at my meat, Till I'm ready to go—and have made the fact known, A generous tip shall be his for the treat, I want a waiter who'll let me alone! ENVOY Prince, let's get off of our usual beat, Let us find out if my vision has flown. There's a small cafeteria just down the street —I want a waiter who'll leave me alone! |