I didn't, really.  I just walked straight up to where he was working, and tada.  


(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLVI)


Does gloaming softly thieve what was, a sense
Of yonder haunts the fragile light gone pale,
And I see-saw on whether to avail
Me of the number Joe wrote down from hence
Or write him off as quite the fruitcake, whence
Our tete-a-tete is laughable.  Yes, they'll
Aquit him of aught, cuz I have ne bail:
Despised is, um, passe for all intents.
I am a woman.  "Lewd" is common fer
All that.  And lo, the skies don navy-blue
As nary bough stirs, traffic naught and poor.
Come, now they rock, leaves whisper lightly, to
Lapse into freighted silence.  Go assure
Yourselves.  I'll laugh tomorrow ist? at you.

27Jun17b