Trolling at the Jersey Shore

As disco stool ghouls
We awaited Mr. Right
At Jersey Shore bars
And listened to live bands
As our chests vibrated
From the sound
Of Morrison and Joel covers
Blaring from large speakers
On the dance floor.

At the Ship Wheel Inn
We got free drinks
So I poisoned my palate
With cheap vodka
And watered-down orange juice
To blur my expectations.

Only when the lights came on
At the transformed Inn
At 2 AM did we notice
The grime and
Stale smell
Of beer-soaked dirty rugs,
But we were young
And didn’t need dim lighting
To fuel the interest
Of males in the rut.

Afterwards, the drive
To OB Diner in Point Pleasant
Was an erratic jaunt
To caloric sobriety
As we assessed the looks
The dance moves
The lines
And the availability of men
Who claimed they weren’t married.

Radar improved each Friday night
As we approached 30
And found ourselves alone.

Despite the hustle
We sought perspired bodies
To be next to
Eyes to meet
And golden idols
Falling from barstools
To catch.

© Joanne Cherefko