It Wasn't A Date

It wasn't a date.

No, I'm telling you it wasn't. We were done with class an hour early and neither of us wanted to go home just yet. Besides, we've been so caught up with our work, I don't think we had anything to eat for more than 24 hours. It was just coffee, coffee, coffee.

Don't you think I'd known if it was a date? I've gone on dates before.

Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want. Very mature. Annnyyyywaaaayy... Dates are wines, nice restaurants. A waiter reading you all the specials from the one piece of paper he had to memorize 3 hours before his shift. This is not it.

We got out of the class, walked a couple blocks, found a teeny tiny restaurant — if you want to call it a restaurant — and we ordered food. I got burger and fries, he ordered the same thing, we ate. And we talked. Nothing more. It's just like lunch break at school.

Was there flirting? Yeah, there was flirting. It's Dan. He'd flirt at anything standing up. He'd flirt at a lamp post and be proud of it.