Pants-down Matt
A poem about a friend's very lame date
On one of our first dates
we walked from dinner
and it was nice,
but I wondered why he didn’t touch me?
Like, not even a little side-hug.
But I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
Later, when he lunged
To tongue-kiss me
After an hour of forced chatting
far away from one another
in his back garden,
Again, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
He could talk, when we talked,
Which was encouraging?
We went inside.
More tongue-stabbing on a couch,
then,
without prelude,
without intimacy,
he pulled his pants off,
and sat there with his dick out.
Expectantly.
It was hard,
but I gave him the benefit of the doubt,
and left.
Weeks or months later,
He took me to the ER as I bled,
Then broke up with me
The next morning
In a Trader Joe’s parking lot.
No more benefits for
Pants-down Matt.
All doubt.
This poem is part of a series about my friends’ datees and exes.