He could have ignored that little old lady,
Waxing poetic and cackling like a hen,
Over an ergonomic chair about to go at auction.

He could have triggered his superior
Financial wherewithal to get it from her
On an easy outbid, profiting in the bargain.

He could have put his smile away, reserving it
For some waitress, gaining points at a cafe
Where free coffee flowed like nectar.

He thought twice, though, smiled again,
And left his hand at his side,
Calmed without a bid.

The chair in all its glory would be hers,
As he smiled shyly, thinking to himself:
What the heck,
It’s Valentine’s day.