Dinner is Served (bp coyle)

We met online.

We had some things in common. Not that much, truth be told, she was obsessed with wrestling while the only sport that interests me is baseball. We both loved movies, just not the same kind.

However, we were both past our sell by date and neither of us were God’s gift to anyone.

It was nice to have a message in my inbox wishing me a good morning. To have someone to say goodnight to. For someone to care how my day had been.

We had both been lonely for a long time.

We agreed to meet up and she looked better in real life than she did in her pics. I guess I must have too because she didn’t run away.

The first couple of dates went pretty well. And then she invited me to her flat for dinner.

The only thought in my head was what would happen afterwards. My hopes were high. Until she put out the food. Spaghetti and meatballs.

All dry and over-cooked. Just like Mama used to make.

I had grown up eating the inedible. Never again.

I made a hasty excuse and got out of there fast.

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