I Lost Something on the TTC

NOTE: TTC = Toronto Transit Commission

I lost something on the TTC and I don't want it back.
I didn't leave it on a bus, or drop it on the subway track.
I'm not concerned about how much replacing it will cost.
I should have got rid of it long ago and I'm better for the loss.
It was 4 AM on the 501 when we boarded the Queen street car.
We'd been kicking our feet at Cherry Beach, trying to count the stars.
Though it was late, me and my date were both still ready to go.
We'd been friends since I don't know when and he was one of the few to know:
that though I was hip, a fully modern chick, I'd never taken the chance
to navigate the choppy straight from innocence to experience.
I'd dabbled my feet to well above the knee, but never quite gone for a swim.
But that night I felt from below the belt that I would take the plunge with him.

We sat at the rear and he nibbled my ear as the car glided through Cabbage Town.
I slid up my skirt, put a hand in his shirt and dared him to go down.
He laid out flat, his head in my lap and pretended to have fallen asleep;
But as he buried his lips in my eager hips it was enough to make me weep!
I started to slip and felt myself tip as the street car slid across Yongue;
But when I stuck my hand in his cup I knew that we weren’t done.

He took my place and kissed my face, now turned in his direction.
I kept my perch as the street car lurched and he slipped on some protection.
With impressive balance and some new found talents, we kept that back seat hot
I didn’t just flirt, I gave him dessert, with whipped cream and a cherry on top.