The life of a manager is an arduous task.
It isn't a secret I carry a flask.

I manage a restaurant, seafood we serve.
The whiskey helps take the edge off the nerve.

You know the one that makes you feel crabby.
Unlike most people, mine makes me feel stabby.

Then there's the guests who frequently dine.
Who never complain, yet constantly whine.

The shrimp are much smaller than they were last week.
A comp from their check is all that they seek.

The staff is no better, cursing my name.
It's an H R nightmare if I do the same.

Off to the house, with my wife I will share.
How work feels like running a children's daycare.

"Now, now" she says while rubbing my neck.
I'll refill your flask when you bring home the check.