2007-09-25 - 1:29 p.m.
Soul? What soul?

I went on that date yesterday with Pretty Lacrosse Boy. A lunch date. Except I don't know if you could call a date because, gasp, he didn't pay. He also did not have very many social skills. He was incredibly awkward.

So I'm hoping he doesn't call again. The date was so blah/bad that I didn't even get a bad date story out of it. Except for this little tidbit. The first thing he does when he sits down at the table is to stare apprehensively at my drink and say "I don't like straws. I just don't like them. I'm afraid they'll poke me in the eye."

Also, later, we were talking about cheap Mexican food and I said that the bar downtown that serves 25 cent tacos probably microwaves them. As soon as "microwaved tacos" came out of my mouth he THREW his fork down and leaned back in his chair to stare at me wide eyed like I had just called his mother a dirty, dirty whore.

He admitted earlier to being "socially retarded" and I have to say I agree, even if I don't like his use of the word "retarded". Girls only like guys who have skills and that boy does not have any sweet ones. I doubt he even has the skill of growing facial hair. Buh-bye.

Hmphf. I had such high hopes for a boy who played lacrosse. But he was just a boy. And not a man. He wasn't even fun to play with. Poo.