The Waitress

Our waitress appeared at our table
But really, we weren’t quite able
To settle if she
Could instead be a he
‘Cause some people resist such a label.

Her build was both muscled and strong
And looked like it didn’t belong
On a female, but hey,
With the lifestyles today
Our assumptions might simply be wrong.

Her nametag said Jack, but we knew
That it wasn’t enough of a clue
And her head was part shaved
But on top she had saved
Just enough so a bun was on view.

She was friendly and had a great smile
Though I wondered, through lunch, all the while
If she realized or cared
That when some people stared
They were questioning more than her style.