First Date Between Two Match.commers

"What do you want to achieve with your life?" He asked.

"What the fuck kind of a question is that?" She responded with the tonality of a question but the implication that she would be disappointed by his response regardless of what it was. 

Disregarding her underlying aggrevation, he began to answer this question with a self-righteous response (because he clearly already felt like he was achieving lots and lots). "What would you like your obituary to note as your most significant...."

She got up and walked off from their little table at the coffee shop and headed home.  Then logged onto the dating site and felt as depressed as every other time she did so.

Death of an Insect

I was a fly

On her fiberglass shower wall

It was a bath-less shower,

A claustrophobic one

In this misanthrope’s

Bachelor pad.

As I was resting there,

I decided I wanted to 

Catch her attention,

Maybe come in for a bite,

A meal.

I buzzed in front of her eyes.

She opened them

And blinked a few times

As water soaked and re-soaked her lashes

Then she zeroed in on me

With crossed eyes

And quickly clapped her hands together.

She got me.

And looked down

To watch my little black form

Go down the drain 

Then crossed herself

And quickly became aware

Of the absurd superstition

Brought on by this blasphemy

And conversed with God in her mind

Telling him he wasn’t real

And therefore shouldn’t be angry with her,

Not for killing me,

But for enjoying it.

That he couldn’t be wrathful nor vengeful

Towards her

Because he didn’t exist.

(And nothing did happen to her.

Karma’s a bitch that way sometimes)

Her mind shifted to a recollection

Of a lecture in an ancient religion course

Back in undergrad

About those females Jains

Who swept the ground

Before every step they took

To prevent crushing any organisms

Along their path

Which consequently led to the death

Of some organisms

The girl presumed.

Which would’ve been sort of comical

Had she not felt envious

Of these ladies’ good intentions.

But she giggled to herself anyway

And now I’m in her internal plumbing

And I hope to God she feels permanently constipated.