I saw it coming – knew the man;
Time slowed down as it sometimes can.
Behind the bar, his usual place,
Tom with his broad and friendly face,
His great long arms, his biceps thick,
Was victim of a nervous tic
That caused an up and downwards jerk
Of balding head if he spoke at work.
His locals know – ignore the sight –
But what it was gave me a fright
Was someone new, just near the door,
Discussing Wednesday’s football score,
Who had a tic that moved his head
But side to side this time instead.
We all could sense the trouble which
Was quite inherent in that twitch.
So when he went to pay his round
The bar fell silent, not a sound –
“Good evening”, then the up-down tic;
“Four beers please”, that sideways flick.
Tom grabbed his throat, you heard him hiss
“Just listen mate, don’t take the piss!”
We watched those long, strong fingers squeeze;
Heard his frightened victim wheeze.
His feet were now right off the floor;
He clearly couldn’t take much more.
“Tom! Tom!” I cried “just let him go!
It isn’t what you think, you know!”
And that is how this story ends –
The two are now the best of friends.
Tolerance is all it takes –
Of other people’s different shakes
