Dating is one of our interaction rituals where we test our theories of what will happen to us in circumstances that have yet to occur. Getting older is the tempered good fortune of realizing how funny your initial notions were in the first place. As usual, we are the last ones to get the joke.-tb
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DATING IN THE 90’s
Little slivers under the nails
are what I thought about last night,
wood splints and the corroded
pinch
of tongue tip to battery acid
when there was no other way
to find out what something felt
or tasted like.
I was throwing a pass
as clumsy as downs
directing traffic.
I complimented
her on the way
the lights
of the ATM blended
with the blonde depth
of her avalanche of mane.
She was finished
pressing buttons
for the night.
She took her cash, transaction
receipt
and card and tucked them all
into her wallet.
“Ready?” she asked.
My hands searched
the bottoms of my pockets
which now weren’t deep enough.
I told her
that I was tired and
was going home to sleep
unless she wanted
to come over and watch TV,”
or “something.”
She said thanks,
but after months of
trying to get tickets,
tonight was a matter
of uncompromised agendas.
But no where as pristine
as the terms of
the gut feeling that
addresses me in first person
and babbles headlong into a perfect night
for a long
drink of water
to go with
the bitter pills that were
found near evening’s end,
amen.
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