I walked up to the counter
Where the woman sat unflinching,
She heaved a sigh,
A moan at the sky,
To tell me that she felt like Grinching.
The lump of a woman barked, “What d’ya want?”
But before I could answer her question,
She groused, “Can’t that ol’ guy
Stop whistling? Lord why?
I should have police come arrestin’.”
I plucked up my courage and asked her point blank,
“Where can I find a restroom?”
Then she raised her eye,
And I thought I might die.
All she needed was black hat and witch broom.
Then she said to me without any remorse,
“Who am I? A guide in some costume?
To pester with junk,
To treat like a skunk-
So I say that there is no restroom.”
And so with a roll of her of her one working eye,
For the other was glass,
She returned to her shell,
Like a devil to . . . Well,
Now I know which desk to pass.