Short and dirty

The subject refers to the version of my date story that y'all are going to get.

We met for drinks in my neighborhood on Friday night. At 8pm. Only he called at 7:45p to say he'd be 20 minutes late. He got to the bar at a little after 9p (he lives in MD and never comes into "the city"). We had two beers and a lot of awkward conversation, including a prolonged one about his most recent ex and one about how many Indian guys I have dated (he's Indian). When the bartender started asking if I needed anything with a look of concern in his eyes, it was time to go. I gave him (the date, not the bartender) much simpler directions to get back home, thanked him for the beers and walked my happy self home. To close, the answer to his question about my Indian dating history is two and he will not be making it three. Luckily, though, he seems to have gotten this message on his own as he has not called, emailed or tried to message me since. Anyway, it was worth a shot.

Back to the bench.