I smirk, high on the knowledge
That I am breaking the rules,
Giddy that I have had a partial glass of wine, then two but more so
At the return trip to the bar for a martini.
I smirk at the imbalance of one woman, two men,
At my own violation of the rules (assuming they exist) .
I smirk in the company of gentlemen,
Rushing to open doors, hang coats,
Or to stand politely holding the collar as each woman slips into them.
I smirk at what it means in my father's eyes, yet deeply adoring
The company of a gentleman.