Shirley Temple


“I’ll have a Shirley Temple.” the young girl tells the bartender.

After she has a couple sips, she hands me the cherry. “You want it? I don’t like cherries.” She says to me.

“I don’t like them either, unless they have been canned and dipped in 7/UP.” I reply, as I take the cherry from her hand.

She laughs at my comment, and runs off with her drink.

I put  the cherry in my mouth, suck on it for a bit, then rip it off the stem.

Pulling the stem out of my mouth, I take a look at it, and chuckle at all the silly little connotations that come along with this tiny red cherry. It also gives me a quick reminder, that one must prove themselves a good kisser, by tying a cherry stem in a knot, using only one’s tongue.

Curious to put my oral skills to the test,

I decide that i will give this stupid stem tying a go.

I place the stem in my mouth, and without even thinking, I bite it in half.

First angry at myself for not even being able to attempt the task.

But soon realized I was never meant to tie stems in knots.

I’m meant to rip them in two.