Typical Internet Date

(revised)

I returned with my phone to a cafe
to sit over coffee with a chick
I’d met on the internet.
I looked around for a ghost.
She left the receipt for me to pay.
The waitress folded her lips under her teeth.
I held back tears of embarrassment.
I sulked through numb thumps, fumbling for payment
and a complimentary mint.
I pushed through the door into the autumn
breeze.
I broke eye contact with myself
in the rearview mirror.
Another date I’d defeated on my own terms.
I shed tears to Tears for Fears on the drive home.
At the house, I hit the lights.
There she was, posing like
a nude Playboy model on the maroon couch.
I forgot my name before I could ask her
for her last name.
She took a wrong turn and entered the front door.
I couldn’t pass on the chance to make a mistake
that we’ll come to regret.

(© 2022 AC)

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