Boy

I had a date tonight. With a boy. It was very cordial. There were no sparks but there might be, if we went on another one. Or ten. Or twenty. (Who makes that call?) I asked if I could call him, but he said he's busy next week—he is, with three midterms—and he'd see me URAP.

I kept making these odd and inappropriate comments about race, and there were awkward beats, like when our food came three minutes after placing our order.

It isn't God that instilled in me this unfulfillable need for companionship but: capitalism, the media, social construction, what have you.

So I resort to polite conversation about what bands we like—and wonder why it feels like I'm missing the connection.