The Meeting

07 Sep


Some guys read too much into a conversation, I read too little.  My basic inferiority complex makes it hard for me to believe that anyone, especially a female someone, might actually be enjoying our conversation, and want to continue it at a later stage.  So I’m not so good at the art of picking up women, or getting their numbers.  Go figure.

I wrote this poem after one such encounter. 

A girl met me last night,
and I liked what she saw.
(not that she was hard to like either)
We shared, she laughed, I smiled.
She told me she had to go,
I didn’t tell her to stay.
She asked me to ask her for her number;
I gave her mine instead.
A girl met me last night,
Let’s hope it happens again.

If this was you, and you were really throwing yourself shamelessly at me, please understand. 

And send me your number. 🙂

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Posted by on September 7, 2009 in Poetry & Prose


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