Philly Heroes: Our friendly service

The cautious countermatron from the shop
Stopped slinging seven shades of stringy slop
For several seconds, staring at her screen
With consternation fit for a cruel queen
For, though her store is ratty, crude and mean
It's surveilled by systems such as you'd see
On some sort of top secret submarine:
It's said that in her culture, women must
Never be placed in positions of trust.

A look askance from crook'd italic eyes
As suspicious intentions she descries
Request for rolling papers met with such
I neither goggled, bobbled, grayed nor blushed
Instead I grabbed a can of bakéd beans
Three Trojans, Mach 3 razors, shaving cream
Meanwhile watching her watch me on the screen
Expecting me to stuff these in my jeans
Smoothing my jacket o'er distended seams
Just like the finest feckless Fairmount fiends

The total comes to seventeen odd quid
But this bitch still squints at me like a squid
Just for my wish to twist up a quick spliff
And pay fucking tuition for her kids.

At least I can skip out on CVS
That cluttered, venal, spirit-sucking mess
Though closer by a mile to my address
Presents the most unconscionable distress
Of asking a young lady to cut short
A heated phone call in which she exhorts
Some big playa who think he way too fly
And think he get to hit it on the sly
He don't know bout how I stay focus, B
And she was like you must not know bout me
And where he think he gon get some head at
And find some otha trick ass bitch to tap.

While I tap on the counter, bitter brain
Boiling and burning with impending shame
The old woman behind me is immersed
In some circular from some Catholic church
And meanwhile I'm about to say 'He-aaaaay,'
Stop squatting on that copy of B'day
Ain't hatin, just get out here, I need help
Please open up that sliding condom shelf."

And worst of all, I'm still always the one
Willing to wait until she thinks she's done
While trying not to grit or grind my jaw
Beyonce will be first against the wall.*

*figure of speech, not proof of fascism