u.p.p., words

drank a bottle of water while i drive too fast down the overly congested highway

had to use the restroom the minute i got close to my destination

small talk with the lady behind the counter

love it when they call me darlin

perks of living in the south

bought another bottle of water before i left, set my phone on the counter as i grabbed my wallet, since i drive a little it is always in my front pocket to protect my flat ass

more small talk

phone nearly dances off the counter as an onslaught of texts come through

she says i must be popular

i laugh and assure her that is not the case

all from an unknown number

i laugh and tell her it is probably the wrong number

she laughs back

place is empty

i make to exit, she makes more conversation

i want to check my phone but that would be rude

and she has the sweetest southern belle act going on, her voice like honey

more vibrations

she asks if it could be my girlfriend

hope not, been over a year

she smiles wide and says well bless her heart

a friend taught me what that means

told her i wasn’t very lucky in love, kind of the opposite in fact

she said i hadn’t found the right one yet

i chuckled uncomfortably

she saw the look in my eye and patted my hand, that bad huh

just another near miss, had high hopes this time

why the fuck am i telling her all of this, and why does she listen, this is crazy, i grab my keys and put my wallet away and make for the door

keep your head up darlin and come back real soon

i nod and head out

i am bad at signals, too long being too blunt has dulled my senses

was she hitting on me

did i just blow her off

ugh

feel as stupid as i looked running out the door

pull out my phone as i sit there wondering if i am really that stupid

twelve texts from the girl from the airplane to st louis

forgot all about her

not gonna answer her, too young and too much trouble if the past has taught me anything

and now i have to avoid a corner mart as well

it is hard being socially inept

it is too many hurdles, too many games

not invested enough to play, not interested enough to try

i need someone that sparks the passion in my words, not lust in my boxers alone

i want a grown up relationship, someone to bring flowers to, hold hands with, write poems for

not one that sends unsolicited pussy pics to a stranger

one that sends selfies so i can look at her face

or, more aptly, i want what i cannot have instead of what i am offered

que sera sera

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