He found his teeth,
at Olive Garden;
deep in a bowl
of salad mix.
Chester had a senior date;
he could hardly wait,
so he met his date at six.
Yet he talked too fast; thus
his dentures went flying out of
his mouth, across tables,
o’er Olive Garden ambiance
to land in oily lettuce, onions
and radish slices.
Nonplussed that day;
old Chester, toothless.
Still he gummed
a communique
to his lady date…
…mmm mmm mmm
mmm mmm mmm…
…she got the message
all right, somehow, so she
ordered a ribeye, well done.
Garden employees fumed.
But they waited.
Chester, unfortunately,
had to be content with
a jar of baby food.
Chester pocketed
his dentures. He
never could stand
Italian dressing.
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