Role Reversal

Gender bending mores
Were on full display yesterday,
When a tall, at least six foot three,
Fake baking taxidermy skinned woman
With three kids in tow
And the frazzled look the comes
When the number of kids exceeds
The authority or interest of the parent,
Approached the door of the Five Guys
At the same time
As a balding pasty skinned
Short dude, maybe five foot three,
Who must have been the low man
On the lunch hierarchy
For he carried more bags and drinks
Than a man of his stature
Should be expected to carry.
He stood inside the burger joint,
His stubbly hair receding and
His ability to open the door challenged
By the gaggle of unsupervised youth
Accompanying the inattentive blonde giant.
She pulled the door open
And flowed right in like witch on a broom
Casting mayhem on the barely balanced bounty
The overburdened gopher carried.
He kept his grip, only momentarily glaring in her direction
For the snub of courtesy she might have extended him
By holding the door for a man.

The role reversal
Was funny in a sad way.

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