Where Does One Go Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

A brain one has,
With a mind not used much...
Can be considered as dangerous.
To suspect any thought expressed,
As a thought coming from someone...
Difficult to trust.

People like this can be fleeced.
And led like sheep.
To know them to be lost of consciousness.
Even with eyes appearing to be open,
The process of thinking is not deep.
Nor are their decisions made,
Dependable or can be believed.

And who keeps the pressure,
To become stressed out?
The ones who associate with them,
Awaiting for 'anything'...'something'...
Said that connects to thoughtfulness,
That makes sense coming from their mouths.

Bartenders, doctors...
And those unknown at 'happy' hour,
Are often the ones sought to approach...
Where those feel the freedom,
To spill their guts and leave with sore throats.
Because all that people like this want,
And wish to get...
Is someone pretending they are listening...
With it done to nod as if they comprehend.
Nothing more. That's it.

And when someone finds,
They are in this situation with it wanted to rid...
Difficult it is to explain this to a spouse.
Or a mate who has questionnable appreciation.
So where does one go,
To be with others they don't know...
Who will show them 'some' respect?
To either a doctor who pretends to hear and listen.
Or to a bar...
Where they are guaranteed to numb a nagging pain.
Or something on their mind,
They have a need to immediately forget.

'I'll take a bottle of scotch.
Two beers.
A lime slice.
And a shot of OJ to chase it with.'

~Sounds like you've had a long day? ~

'Hopefully I wont remember any of it.
Here is my driver's license and car keys.
Have someone just drop me at the door.
And I'll leave you this tip...
Leave and not argue with anyone,
Who has convinced you...
You are the one stupid.'

~Okay.
I wont stay and argue.
And I thank you for that tip.
I just hope one day you will acknowledge it.~

'Oh.
Change that scotch,
To a bottle of rum.
With ginger or coke.
I want to do a slow roll off the bar stool.'