I could tell about it but don’t you laugh,

She would strangle me to death with her pretty scarf.
Her face didn’t say but she needed to pee
Or you can ask her if you don’t believe. But she would not
Until she had found a toilet clean.
Local time was ten and it was already cold.
Dare I say, she could barely hold.

Her interest was perhaps me but now obsolete.
All she could think was
Very clean toilet seats.
Eh, look what trumped our friendship.

Part of me felt pity but we kept on eating.
Eleven it was when we left.
Even then, she was as calm as she could be.
Did I tell, I was a bit impressed?

But I played a fool and did not hurry.
Everything was perfect; the wind, the place,
Fine moonlight over her head.
Oh, but not her urgency. I had now started feeling guilty.
Rest is history. She went home, I went mine.
Eleven thirty it must have been when her interest realigned.