The Tapping

Facebook thinks I should be friends with him.

I look at the thumbnail photo

and I can hear the sound immediately—

that sharp, rhythmic clink

of his gold class ring hitting the water glass.

He’d do it until the waitress turned around,

smiling like he was doing her a favor.

He always wore those khakis,

the ones that ended way too high,

showing off four inches of black sock

and the pale, hairless skin of an ego

that never learned how to apologize.