Sore Loser

On their first date, they thought it might be fun to guess what the worst thing about the other person was.

They had rules, of course, set out at the beginning. No name-calling, no being mean for the sake of being mean, try to keep comments about physical appearance to a minimum. But the rest was fair game. They ordered coffee and stared at each other.

“Me first?” Shit,” she said, and then a minute later. “You walk around with, like police tape around you, so no one can get too close.”

“I don’t want to play anymore,” he said.


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