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May. 11th, 2002 01:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arachne8xMystery Date
The vultures close in
circling lazily, swooping down
to feast upon my self-respect,
lying torn from my body.
seven words caused this massacre
Each seeming innocent enough on its own
but strung together in a sentence
they struck the killing blow:
"I know someone who's perfect for you."
The offer of a blind date
reminds me of the rubied fruit
the serpent offered.
Though I've sunk my teeth
into rotten flesh before
that bright, taut skin
tempts me with the promise of something sweet.
So grudgingly I accept
and prune, prod and primp
until I feel sufficiently armed
He looks normal enough
and after some harmless small talk
the truth serum effects of the two long island iced teas
that he has sacrificed to his lack of personality
kicks in
and I find out that my "dream date"
Bachelor number one
is a 27 year old child who lives with his parents
and has decided in lieu
of finishing his degree, getting a job, or getting a life
to devote himself
to bodybuilding, rock climbing, or playing video games
In other words: he is finding himself
I realize that I found myself years ago
and hear a voice booming from above:
Thank you for playing.
All of our contestants receive one of our lovely parting gifts:
A hangover from the five glasses of wine I drank to delude myself,
or indigestion from the way he propositioned me
and the smell of his cologne.
And I look back
and consider giving a sentence of an eternal silent treatment
to the friend who said he was perfect for me.
The vultures close in
circling lazily, swooping down
to feast upon my self-respect,
lying torn from my body.
seven words caused this massacre
Each seeming innocent enough on its own
but strung together in a sentence
they struck the killing blow:
"I know someone who's perfect for you."
The offer of a blind date
reminds me of the rubied fruit
the serpent offered.
Though I've sunk my teeth
into rotten flesh before
that bright, taut skin
tempts me with the promise of something sweet.
So grudgingly I accept
and prune, prod and primp
until I feel sufficiently armed
He looks normal enough
and after some harmless small talk
the truth serum effects of the two long island iced teas
that he has sacrificed to his lack of personality
kicks in
and I find out that my "dream date"
Bachelor number one
is a 27 year old child who lives with his parents
and has decided in lieu
of finishing his degree, getting a job, or getting a life
to devote himself
to bodybuilding, rock climbing, or playing video games
In other words: he is finding himself
I realize that I found myself years ago
and hear a voice booming from above:
Thank you for playing.
All of our contestants receive one of our lovely parting gifts:
A hangover from the five glasses of wine I drank to delude myself,
or indigestion from the way he propositioned me
and the smell of his cologne.
And I look back
and consider giving a sentence of an eternal silent treatment
to the friend who said he was perfect for me.
