Tight Fitting Jeans

         Tight Fitting Jeans

She was snug in her Levis
Waiting tables that night
But were they painted on
On just painfully tight

Tautly smooth without wrinkle
Stretched over a broad expanse
A heavy load on each seam
I check her with a glance

She leaned across a table
I feared she might be set free
Spilling all her contents
For all the world to see

But her pants, black as midnight
Stretched across an ample frame
Held firm under pressure
Proving the makers claim

And as I left the diner
I left a big tip again
And picking it up she thought
These pants always win with men