I like this date, relatively speaking, until I’m stuck being the bad guy, ending something that didn’t really even get started.

We meet online and have all the right things in common, so we quickly make a date and meet at the bar. Maybe they have my favorite beer on draught. It’s probably your favorite too. So we chat about our alma maters and their football rivalry and we watch the game out of the corners of our eyes. You know a few of the athletes, and I’m just hoping I don’t make too poor a showing in my fantasy league this week, which you think is adorable. You’re attractive enough, and it’s all…fine. I’m polite. I laugh at your jokes even when they’re not super funny, and I give you a smile and a hug and maybe a quick kiss at the end of the night. We both know this isn’t quite right. Right?

But then you’ll text me (probably not tomorrow, but most likely the next day) to tell me you had a nice time and that we should grab dinner sometime. Should we? Was I misreading everything when I thought we were equally uninterested in pursuing this further? Because I like a microwaved sweet potato in my bed with Timmy Riggens keeping me company more than I’ll enjoy two more Blue Points while I wonder why you’re not holding my attention.

xo Tough Cookie