Date One

I try too hard on my appearance because
I always do and
walk into the campus coffee shop
and she's standing with her friend.

Damn, this place is packed,
I say, observantly.  She agrees
and we luck out, finding two bar seats.

Coffee at 2:30 pm is a good choice,
but it's mostly filler for our lack of common interests -
but the coffee tastes good
even if the cup is really awkward
(it's wide and looks like a miniature toilet bowl).

We talk about our days, then our week,
then nothing for a bit, then
travel!  Yes, of course!  We have both studied abroad
so let's talk about that for thirty minutes
and share pictures.  How long can I talk
about New Zealand?  Make sure I mention
skydiving.  Chicks dig guys who take risks.

Meanwhile, we are running out of things to say
and this coffee shop is a sweatshop and I'm wearing
too much clothes and it appears that she tried harder
on her appearance that I did.  Somehow, that is more
of a turn-off than not trying at all.

I fashion a clever alibi, a reason to leave early.
"I have a group meeting at 3:30."
I even brought the book we're discussing in the meeting
and I show her.  It's about black masculinities in American society.

I think she bought it.

I leave my seat, get her number, and decide I won't
even give her a parting hug.  She doesn't deserve that.
She wasn't interesting enough.  Bye bitch,
'til next time.