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The R Word photo

The cocktail was white with lemon bobbling the middle. Meaning: no one had bobbed for that adult apple. Admiring his apartment I made it disappear.

I suggested we arm wrestle as I did with every boy. I was a pick me and for my spreadsheet.

I made an impression of a pout when he said no. 

“But my spreadsheet.” 

“Fuck your spreadsheet."

He pulled me closer with my arm.

“No! You’ll have to wait to kiss me!”

It was not the right moment because it was not the wrong one. I told him to put on Ghost World, my FMOAT. Meaning favorite movie of all time. I hoped he’d catch on that I connected with Enid.

Instead, he was like:

“Damn dude, the r word in the first five minutes,” he said.

I felt embarrassed.

I felt like I was twelve.

I could dismember him with a hacksaw he had for Projects. I could make that he was forgotten on the internet meaning he was forgotten in real life.

Meh. Not worth it.

I took a sip of a shooter on the coffee table and made a face that meant ew, bad choice.    

Then he brought me orange juice with a fuckton of vodka in it. He took the other shooter and did not make the face I'd made. He was manly. I was unsure how his muscles were not ripping through his shacket.

He grabbed my hand and the shooter had made me really drunk, not the drinks at the bar.

“You’re hard to read,” he said, looking at me as deep a man allows himself to.

Show don't tell. I instigated the act of kissing and our tongues barged into each other like two fucked up bullet trains.

 He did a coo-coo crazy thing. He clamped his hand around my throat hard and yanked my hair back. Hard.

"What the fuck? Don’t do that.” 

I was someone who had no mascara on to smear with her tears. “I’m like so triggered right now.”

“I'm sorry but, like, you were all over me.” he said.

I looked at the lemon in the glass.

“You said some nasty fucking things. Before this started. Nasty fucking things," he said.

I would’ve made the sign of the cross if I remembered who died on it. “Do you like me?” 

Meh. Why not.

"I don't know."

My invisible mascara smeared more and he told me I was drunk so I ordered the Uber

****

            I opened our dating app and started drafting my apology.

I love you.

I really dig you and I hope to see you again.

I'm sorry about how I acted last night. On these new meds whose side effects include blacking out with a stranger and acting inconceivably….

R-worded.

Ha ha ha.

Delete that.

I did like him. It‘s not like he r-worded me. Ha ha. That was no laughing matter. What happened was fine. I could skip through the park to the tune of I’ve never been r-worded before. We'd get married and feed our children organic fruit.

I'm sorry for acting so…

Inappropriate.

Sent.

Meaning: you’re a weak idiot pussy weak idiot pussy ugh.

Oh well. I walked through the park and took new photos for my profile. I checked my messages on the app. Checking and checking and checking. Eventually I saw the word.

Seen. Meaning read. Meaning save til later. Meaning ignored


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