Women and pints

Friday night on a rainy Belfast night,

A hum of noise as I opened the door.

I made my tentative way to the bar;

I tried to catch the barman’s eye.

‘A pint of Guinness,’ I shout.

‘A half, you say.’

‘No, a pint.’

‘A pint?’

‘And you look such a nice girl.’

‘A pint,’ I say.

I sip the creamy head. Slowly.

And look him in the eye.

One small step

Towards equal measures