Ficlets

You’d think I would get the concept by now: I meet a nice lady, we talk, maybe flirt a little (underline “little”), then we go out to dinner . . . at which time it is revealed to me that the nice lady in question is (a) “not looking to date anyone right now,” (b) involved with a guy serving a tour in Afghanistan or finishing grad school in California or on assignment with his company in South Africa or whatever, (c) super-duper-needy, (d) not nice at all, (e) crazy, or (f) some combination of the above. We finish our nice dinner while I try to keep it from getting awkward. Then I drive her home, give her a little hug and a pat on the back, and then send the one obligatory polite e-mail within a few days.

Simple, right? You’d think I would have this down pat. But no.