alone again at the 24 hour diner

no i did not sleep with him on the first date. we strolled through the city, stopping inside of a little corner shop, one of his favorites because they sell expensive bottled beer. my cheeks flushed into a ripened peach as he denied my offer to pay for myself, and my nervous hands struggled to tuck my crumpled dollar bills back into my jean pocket. i asked for a dark roast, and he ordered a beer for himself. to my delight, we sat next to the window so i could peer out each time my thought process scattered into mismatched puzzle pieces.

his eyes glistened, reflecting the light creeping through the fingerprinted windows. his crisp physical features and the scent of his cologne inveigled my body to move closer to his. he anticipated that i was a sucker for cliche coffee shop dates, like the movies i romanticize where time slows to a halt when two forlorn soon-to-be lovers meet eyes for the first time. we began discussing our visions of what new seinfeld episodes would consist of, and how urban outfitters shouldn’t have the right to sell overpriced vinyl, and make it trendy.

as the sun slipped beneath the buildings, i began to pick up on his sudden gestures and movements that projected overconfidence. i started to blur out his words, while nodding my head with an innocent smile – i knew it’s what he wanted. searching for men who want to crawl inside my brain and pick through the files of thoughts and information inside has become more of a painful task than an enjoyable experience these days. his glossy gaze was not what i presumed, so i apologized for my sudden demand to jam.

my apology wasn’t sincere because i had nowhere to be. i felt the need to drive home and sit in my underwear while watching sex in the city and sipping on chamomile. in the moment it felt much more satisfying. i finally came to my senses, and wanted him to sit in solitude, or to reconsider his charm that came off so well rehearsed, like he used it on multiple women to slip them under his sheets. i refused to fall into “girl number 24, honey glazed hair, green eyes, slender build, similar to girl number 14, but less chatty.”

i strutted to the 24 hour diner and treated myself to eggs benedict and a cheap cup of coffee. grasping my cup, i turned my head to glance at the strangers mingling at the bar next to me. so enthralled by each other’s company, they left together. i watched him excitedly hop in the woman’s car, as they sped into the distance. i chuckled and mumbled, good luck under my breath.

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