He sat at the bar and looked her up and down.
"How's a drink" he asked.
She nodded.
Three drinks later she was telling him about her ex and he was admiring her legs.
Later he tried to convince her to go home with him and look at her record collection.
She liked him, but he was a bit old and she felt uncomfortable with the way his eyes wandered over her.
She declined and walked half a block to her bedsitter and had left over pasta and tuna.
He wished he'd said something clever to sweep her off her feet, but he had never been good with chicks.
His friends laughed when he told them, and they drank some more beer.
Her parent wouln't have liked him but that didn't matter because they were dead.
If only he'd said something that would have swept her off his feet.
He went back to the bar the following week, but she wasn't there.
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