Date Four

I probably shouldn't have agreed
to go on another date.
I was just watching Good Will Hunting
and it inspired me for the first 95% of the movie and then
it suddenly sucked when he went to chase the girl
he didn't love because he felt guilty.  Like,
why didn't you take one of those badass jobs, Will?

Anyway, we're getting Five Guys, which tastes good,
but I don't really have anything to talk about anymore.
It's awkward.  Burgers don't taste good
when you feel awkward.  I feel like Ron Swanson
when he uses the automatic door closer, or
when he celebrates his birthday alone in a locked room
with a steak and whiskey and a good movie.
That would be nice right now.

We agree to watch TV together but there's nowhere to watch it
and I don't feel like bringing her to my apartment and her
roommate is in her room so no TV, we decide.
We joke to each other about a next time,
which is a joke
because there won't be a next time,
and really,
it's for the best.

I feel blissfully free as I drop her off.
I don't care who my ex is fucking.

Date Three

The greeting hug lasts a second too long.  We're going
to the art museum downtown and I'm stressed
about not having cool music to play.  I've literally
had this problem since last year and I've explained
how I only have a CD player.  The only CDs I have are
a few Kanye mixes (they are hopelessly scratched)
and a "Best of 1967" mix
from my grandmother's stash.

We listen to "Everyone Knows It's Windy."  The whole thing.

I pay for parking and decide to let her pay for her museum ticket
because fuck yeah, gender equality.  We get in an elevator together
and I think about my first kiss with my ex
in a fucking elevator
but I don't touch this bitch
because I'm not attracted to her.

Art is boring so I pretend
to be an art snob and critique every piece,
which she finds hilarious.
Her laugh is ugly, too.

There is a vacuum cleaner on a pearly white stand.
I look at it for about a minute without saying a word.

She grabs my arms a couple times
but I'm not feeling the whole kino thing
and we watch this weird artsy video in a dark room
and I think about holding her hand for the 14th time
but I don't.

We leave the museum and we go to Chick-Fil-A.
I can't enjoy food with people like her.
I drop her off and give her a goodbye hug,
and pat her shoulder with a genuine smile.
No kiss for you, bitch.

She gives me the most disgusted look I've ever seen someone give me.
I'm smirking.

Date Two

Dinner, or something.  I pick her up in my car
and I decide to get out as she's walking
up and give her a hug.  I open
her door and close it after her.  We talk
about George H.W. Bush's FSX policy in the late 80s
because it's on my mind and
I'm not good at small talk.

Table for two.  Damn, this food is expensive
but I want to give the impression that I'm not a poor.
She is a good-looking person but she tried too hard
again
and I'm waiting to be attracted
again
and it's not happening.  I become
less attracted when she says she doesn't drink
because I'm an alcoholic that rules out an easy way
of getting to know her.

The chicken parm is massive!  I eat
maybe a quarter of it.  She eats more
than me, which is a challenge to my masculinity.
I fail to catch up anyway.  She is surprised
when I say I play basketball,
intramural basketball, of course.  I'm basically
the LeBron of the team - the tallest player
and also a great shooter.  Yeah, I'm 5'11.
I'm valuable.
We've won two games in three years.
That's a poor percentage.

I flex my monetary capital and pay for her dinner.
We're having a solid talk about Game of Thrones.  I used to think
only certain chicks watch good TV but now I know that
all of them do and it's all they talk about
so they aren't special to me anymore.  I don't know
how to leave the table smoothly so I say
I need to practice a presentation
and I stand up
carrying a very serious facial expression.
It must be done, the expression says to her.

We walk to my car and talk about the snow.
I consider the possibility of holding her hand
but I don't, because I don't
have any feelings for her.  I drop her
off and stay in my car.  No goodbye
hug, again.  I don't like her.  Fuck.
My ex is such a fucking whore.