About a week after the breakup, I was asked on a date by GEORGE JONES, a friend of friends who was young, pretty, and apparently very interested in me. He found me on Facebook, and asked me to dinner via instant message. It was one of the lamest date offers I've ever received, but I took it. Sometimes you just gotta go on a post-breakup date.
We went to a very typical date restaurant. We dressed up, had two hours of getting-to-know-you conversation, laughed a little, GEORGE JONES paid, and he kissed me goodnight when we got to my bike. It was a pretty good kiss and he smelled like Old Spice.
In the two weeks that followed, we ate a few meals, and had a couple awkward sexual encounters.
One night we slept together, at his place, and I apologized for not being so 'into it.' I told him I wasn't ready to be back in the saddle, that I might need some time. He said he understood and kissed me on the cheek & we went to sleep.
The next morning I woke up in his apartment, alone, not a note in sight, and unable to unlock his back gate behind his apartment to escape. I eventually broke it and got the fuck out of there. GEORGE JONES didn't return my call that morning, or ever again.
