Want to know how the date went last night?

Gimme a B! Gimme a U! Gimme an S! Gimme a T! What's that spell?

How about no second date?

For the most part, I think the date actually went really well, but there were a few red flags that a second date wasn't going to happen. He took and made phone calls during the date. At one point while at Dave and Buster's, he told the clerk "yeah, we're not coming back here" when told about how he could put the tickets we earned on the Power Card. The car ride back to drop me off at my place was damn near silent. And at the end of the night, there was no kiss. Actually, I got a handshake. A corny ass handshake at that. Then he claims he'd call me back when he got back home to let me know that he made it back (he didn't do that; I ended up calling him), then feeds me this line about how the ball's now in my court because I sensed the date going sour because — get this — he wants us to be friends.

Yes ladies and germs, this shit went from great date to friend zone in T-minus four hours. Not quite a land speed record, but still rather fast. *sigh*

It does kinda suck, because the expectation was built up on his end that this was going to be a real date. Instead it was a $90+ cross-city excursion of friendship (at least I didn't have to pay, though). And with no real promise of a second meeting either! See, this is why I don't date; I end up meeting muthafuckas who claim to do it and want to do it, but then back out and offer me their friendship like a goddamned consolation prize. No thanks.

Shit, I could've been doing work tonight.

Back to the drawing board.