why did she leave?

         Well, here I am again.  Looking for love or lust.  Trying to find a woman or who knows possibly women to show some sexual lovin’.  I’m the hip and stylin’ bachelor who’s on the lookout for a good-lookin’ lover.  I know I’m the man they’re searchin’ for so come on lovely ladies let me show you lots of pleasure and all of the plentiful treasure.  You know it and I know it so let’s go somewhere and show each other our appreciation of the sexual pleasure.
         I pay the cover and make my way through the crowd while checking out the female offerings that the night has to offer.  There is a few that are quite attractive but they have guys hanging and drooling all over them.  I feel sorry, pity and all of those other sad things for these beautiful ladies, because they deserve better men than what they have.  I mean these guys are, well to put it kindly they are thugs.  I mean low class, dirty, smelly, and ugly.  If I was a female, which thankfully I’m not, I couldn’t find one tiny fiber that I would be attracted to.  Oh well, these ladies are probably hating this, but they’re probably to nice to tell them bluntly to get lost.  Or maybe they’re really drunk and well you know, the dangers of alcohol.  What they really need is me to satisfy all of their needs.
         So I continue strutting towards the bar, or until some lovely female stops me dead in my tracks and grabs me by the hips and leads me to the dance floor for which only would be a warmup for the real action later in the night.  But so far no luck in that particular department, but hey the night is still young and so am I.  I don’t make it to the bar, instead one of those hardworking, cute cocktail waitresses stops me in my tracks, but she doesn’t grab my hips.
         “What would you like?” she asks.
         I hesitate for a moment as the switch in the old brain goes on and names of drinks resurface.  Vodka Tonic.  Seven and Seven.  Pina Colada.  Kamikazee.  Rum and Tonic.  Rum and Coke.  Margarita.  Long Island Iced Tea.  Beer.
         The cute cocktail waitress is staring at me as if I was an amateur at the bar and/or alcohol consumption scene and that I’m scared and/or nervous to order.  I realize that she asked for my order for what seemed to be an hour ago.
         “Give me a Black Russian,” I say confidently.
         “You mean a White Russian.”
         “No, a Black Russian,” I tell her again.
         She leaves with a strange expression thinking I’m nuts.
         So while waiting I scan the bar looking for some lonely, good-looking lady that would insist on my wonderful company to pass the time, someone to dance with and enjoy the night with and possibly the rest of our lives with, but hey one night wouldn;t be bad either.  So here I’m standing like a statue waiting for my drink and hopefully a babe while the dance floor is packed and the cigarette smoke that’s floating in the air like a dense fog is making its way into the expensive fabric of my brand new white and black button-up shirt and my grey stone-washed jeans.  Of course I won’t smell it tonight, but in the morning when my senses especially smell is back to normal I will pick up the clothes from the floor and they will smell like a tobacco field that caught on fire.  Which would mean I would have to get the laundry detergent out and wash them and 75 hard-earned cents would be used to try to get the smell out of the clothes and replace it with the smell of sunshine on a clean, spring day, or so it goes.  But instead the new smell will be mostly that clean, fresh scent; however, a trace of Camels, Marlboro, Virginia Slims, and other cancer sticks will still be trapped in my hp and stylin’ threads.
         I see the waitress glide towards me with her drink tray high in the air as she maneuvers between the mass of people.  I take some money out and pay her for the drink plus a fifty cent tip for her patience while I was flipping through the cocktail manual in my brain.  She smiles and thanks me, maybe she doesn’t think I’m so nutty after all.
         Bingo!  Time to charm.  I see her sitting at the bar all alone drinking some fancy cocktail just waiting for someone to sweep her off her feet, so it might as well be me.  Confidently I stroll over and sit down next to her and I continue drinking my Black Russian, then look at the crowded dance floor, then look at the band playing on the stage, then I casually catch a glance of her face, then her body, and I’m pleased at her package.
         “How’s it going?” I ask her.
         She turns and checks me out then replies, “It’s going.”
         “Hi, I’m Colin.”
         “Hi, I’m Kathleen.”
         “Nice to meet you.”
         She nods her head in approval then she looks everywhere in the bar, the band, the dance floor, the pool tables, the people sitting at the small round tables, the bartender, her watch, her drink, but she doesn’t look at me.
         Quick, time to remember those pick up lines that I have stored away next to the cocktail manual in my brain.  Shit, where the fuck are those words of romance and sexual references.  Wait, here they come slowly but surely time to go through and pick the right ones.  Hey babe how about you and me your place or mine...  You’re very beautiful...  I could offer you a lot babe, my condo in Aspen, wine and dine, spend lots of money on someone that deserves it like you.
         Better hurry up she’s starting to lose interest.
         “Care to dance?” I ask what’s her name, oh that’s right Kathleen.
         She’s older than I am, probably early thirties and she’s blonde and beautiful for her age.
         She looks at me and shakes her head from side to side.
         “Not rihht now but maybe next song,” she replies.
         Better start some intriguing conversation so she doesn’t blow me off.  But what can her and I talk about?  Nothing comes to mind, so I stay on the barstool next to her, and I think to myself at least she could make an effort to continue the conversation.  Well she hasn’t spoken a word since she said ‘song’ maybe she has a impairment, who knows.
         I look at my drink and right now it’s mainly ice with a little bit of alcohol left, so I down the rest, put the empty glass on the bar and order a Vodka Tonic, pay for it and I hear a different song playing and remember that it’s time to dance with Kathleen.  I put my change in my wallet, turn around and get ready to dance, but notice that she’s not sitting there anymore and I wonder where the hell she is and I look at the mass of people while I try to find her.  Then I finally see her shaking her booty and everything else out on the dance floor and she’s with one of those fuckin’ thugs that I saw earlier.
         I shake my head in despair, then I remember that I’m the hip and stylin’ bachelor, therefore, there is still time to strut my stuff.  Except for one problem, it’s getting late and the bar will close in less than a hour, so I better move fast.  I take a drink of my Vodka Tonic, but I end up downing all of it, so once again I’m empty handed.
         Here comes the same cocktail waitress as before and this time I stop her dead in her tracks as I gently rest my hands on her petite waist, and of course she looks at me thinking I’m about to rape her.  This time my cocktail manual in my brain is lighting quick as I order a White Russian before she even asks me.  However, she still looks at me with a suspicious look.
         “Why do you order those Russian drinks all the time,” she asks.
         I’m getting buzzed and feel like accusing her of accusing me.
         “What?  Do you think I’m a Commie or something.  Well I’m not.  I’m an all-american boy next door.  Want to find out for yourself?”
         She shakes her head and sort of sneers at me while she backs away.  Once again she probably thinks I’m nuts.  Oh well.
         So I’m leaning onto a railing next to the dance floor, and when I turn to my left I see this lady that I know because she lives at the same apartment complex as I do.  We say hello and ask each other what’s going on and we make small talk for awhile.  She’s moving along with the music and she looks pretty good tonight.  Her name is Gina and she’s about fifty or so years old but she looks much younger and has a decent body and a dark tan, almost too dark of a tan.  She likes to dance and we decide that we will cut up the floor during the next song, so in the meantime I’m looking to see if I know anyone else here but I don’t.
         The cocktail waitress is standing next to me and she sets my drink on the railing and I pay for it and she leaves right when the cash touches her hand.  I guess I’m too nutty for her, oh well I didn’t want her anyway.  So I start drinking my other Russian drink and then the next song begins and Gina and I go to the dance floor and dance.  She’s a really good dancer, but of course so am I and we’re probably the best dancers out there.
         We go our separate ways after the dance and I finish my White Russian and I find a seat at the bar and look at all these people and try to find that Kathleen lady and sure enough I do.  She’s with the same thug that she danced with and they’re kissing and have their arms around each other as they leave.
         I decide to leave also and I wonder.  Why did she leave with him and not me?
                                                 *****
         Well, here I am again.  It’s Saturday night and I’m at the same bar as last night and I hope that I do much better tonight than last night.  As I walk in I see Gina standing at the same spot as she was last night, so I decide to walk over to her and see what’s going on.
         “Hi how are you doing tonight,” I ask as I tap her bare shoulder.
         She turns around and smiles then says, “Hi Colin how was the rest of your night?”
         “It got pretty wild.  I ended up going to a party with a couple girls that I met,” I lie.
         She looks at me as if she knew what happened and she probably wishes that I was with her.  There are times when I think that she wants to have a fling with me for at least one night.  I mean when we see each other at the pool at our apartment complex there are times when I think she is checking me out hoping that she could get an unobstructed view of my sexual package.          
         I sit down next to her and the cocktail waitress comes by and I order a Rum and Coke instead of those Russian drinks.  There’s an empty stool next to me and I see a very attractive young blonde walking towards me and sure enough she taps my shoulder and I wonder if she’s going to ask me, the hip and stylin’ bachelor to dance.
         “Is anyone sitting here,” she asks as she rests her hand on the stool.
         “What,” i ask in a pretty loud voice because the music is loud and I didn’t hear what she said.
         “Is anyone sitting here,” she asks in a louder voice.
         I understand and tell her, “No.  Go ahead and sit down.”
         She sits then looks at the people dancing, then she searches the nightclub.  The cocktail waitress arrives with my drink and the young lady next to me orders a drink.  After I pay for my drink I take a sizeable drink.
         Once again I’m forced to start the conversation, since the last thing she said to me was “here.”  I feel confident and more comfortable with her than I did last night with... Oh what was her name.  I know it started with a K or was it a C?  i remember she was older.  Wait a minute it’s coming to me.  Yeah that seems right, Kathleen.
         “Hi, I’m Colin.  And you are?”
         She hesitates for a moment while she’s looking at me, maybe she’s wondering if she could trust me, and she might be thinking of using a fake name just in case of what I don’t know.
         “I’m Julie.  Nice to meet you,” she says with a friendliness to her voice.
         So far so good.
         “Likewise,” I reply.  “So where are you from?”
         “Tulsa.  I just moved here about two weeks ago and I’m staying with some friends.  
What about you?”
         I’ve been in this town for about three years.  I’m going to the college.”
         She must be interested in this conversation and hopefully me also because she keeps on talking to me.
         “Do you like the college?”
         I nod in approval.
         “What are you studying,” she asks.
         “Mass Communications.  I want to be a sportswriter.”
         I figure that we’re getting along very well, so she probably wouldn’t mind if I ask her to dance, however, I’m going to wait until a good song is playing.  Both of us look at the band on stage and the people dancing on the floor.  We don’t say anything for a few moments, and I realize that she’s not like Kathleen who left me for a thug.  I also realize that I haven’t used any pickup lines that I have stored next to the cocktail manual in my brain, maybe I don’t need to use them on her.
         Finally a good song is playing and I turn to her and lean closer so she can hear me over the music.
         “Do you want to dance,” I ask in anticipation.
         She looks at me then says, “I would love to.”  Then she pauses.
         Alright this night could turn out to be something worthwhile I think to myself.
         “But I’m expecting some friends and I want to be sure that I find them first.  We’ll dance once I know that they’re here.  How does that sound?”  She looks at me sweetly and waits for a response.
         “Fine,” I say.
         Her drink arrives and she starts drinking and she’s moving along with the music.  I’m hoping that her friends arriver soon, so she and I could dance.  For some reason she doesn’t talk to me anymore and she’s constantly looking at the people in the nightclub to see if her friends have arrived.  I watch her as she acts like a surveillance camera, and I feel uneasy as she smiles at guys that I guess turn her on.  Then I take a drink and before I realize what happens some guy taps her on the shoulder and asks her to dance.  She sets her drink down and follows him to the dance floor and I see them dancing and she’s smiling and having a great time.
         What about her waiting for her fuckin’ friends to arrive before she dances!
         To me there are two reasons for dancing.  One is because you love to dance and you don’t care who you’re dancing with.  The second reason is because you do care who you’re dancing with and you want to get to know them and possibly see more of each other after dancing and after that particular night.  As I see them moving in place and not actually dancing while they lean towards each other to talk, I realize that they’re dancing for only the second reason.
         Jesus, this situation is bad I think to myself as I take a huge drink of my Rum and Coke and all I taste is the rum.  This is a major setback to my reputation as the hip and stylin’ bachelor that any female would dream of being with.  Oh my god a message just went through my mind but I know it can’t be true.  It said:  “Colin, maybe you’re not the hip and stylin’ bachelor that all women dream of.”
         I’m pissed off at that Julie broad, so I ask Gina to dance and of course she accepts.  Keep in mind the two of us are only dancing because of the number one reason on my list to dance.  So we’re dancng and I’m dancing incredibly awesome and so is Gina.  Gina does a spin move and I follow but someone bumps into me so I turn to see who it was and it was that Julie broad.  We look at each other and she shakes her head in disgust and I just stare at her for a couple of seconds then she moves back to her dance partner who will most likely be her partner when it comes time to go to bed.  Gina and I finish dancing then we go back to where we left our drinks.
         Julie and her new friend are standing next to me  and they’re talking, then her friends show up.  They’re three ladies and they stand in a semi-circle and Julie introduces them to her new friend, and they continue to shoot the breeze.  I think to myself that whatever his name is should blow off Julie and dance with some other lady.  Give Julie a taste of her own medicine.  But as the night moves into those early morning hours Julie is still with whatever his name is and they’re kidding each other and talking and dancing and holding hands and kissing and rubbing their hands on each other’s thighs.
         Time is running out on this night and I finish my Rum and Coke and order a Michelob Dry instead of one of those mixed drinks that I like so much.  I know the theory  that mixing hard liquor and beer is a dangerous combination that makes you a lot drunker, a lot quicker and ending up with a massive hangover, but at this moment I don’t  care.
         I need to dance again so I scan the female populous that’s not with any man, but all I see is that they’re with some guy and the ones that are not don’t pass my standards.  I decide to ask Gina again, but as I go to ask some guy already said the magic words ‘Care to dance?’ and I end up watching them heading to the dance floor and so does Julie and whatever his name is.
         I’m left standing alone and I drink, almost chug my beer and for some reason it leaves a horrible aftertaste even though ‘dry’ beer doesn’t have any aftertaste.  Maybe the aftertaste isn’t from the beer, maybe it’s from how I’m feeling at this moment watching Julie who lied to me, and dancing with whatever his name is.  Watching Gina who I only think of as a neighbor and a friend, who’s out there dancing with someone else.  Looking at everyone else who’s with the member of the opposite sex and how they’re having a good time while dancing or talking or just gazing into each other’s eyes because they’re in love.  Then I look at the empty space all around me and I realize that the hip and stylin’ bachelor is alone and maybe the little message that flashed in my mind for a second about not being as hip and stylin’ might actually be true.
         The lights of the nightclub turn on and I watch as Julie and whatever his name is leave hand in hand.  I also leave and while walking to my car there are a lot of couples leaving together, but I drive home alone once again.
         Why did she leave with him and not me?
                                                 *****
         During the week I worked four days at the restaurant where I bus tables.  It went pretty well and made some good tips, but on Wednesday it was really busy and I got yelled at by my boss because I was talking to a friend of mine and his girlfriend who were there for lunch when about twenty people showed up at once.  I should’ve given the finger to my boss but I didn’t, instead I quietly muttered obsenities and continued to work.
         My friend Tina called and told me about this small party she had at her house, and how they got drunk and sat in the hot tub.  How she ended up making out with some guy and she didn’t remember that until her friend Dina told her about it the next day.  She also told me that Dina and the guy she was with got really drunk and puked all over the house including Tina’s mom’s bedroom.  Tina also told me that she didn’t wake up until about one in the afternoon and she had a massive hangover and the entire house smelled like tequila and puke.
         Other things that I did during the week was cash a $600 check that my dad sent me and I ended up spending almost of it in a couple of days because of rent and bills and getting my car fixed.  Also on the days that I didn’t work I would stay up late watching talk shows for the first time all summer and now it’s August, and I would also sleep in late and watch game shows for the first time since summer began.
         On the sunny days during the week I went down to the pool and laid out and worked on my tan that was starting to lose some of it’s color.  I would read back issues of Premiere, and also casually look at Gina and while I was reading I would look over the magazine and notice Gina looking at me, not saying a word.
         Then once again another Friday night arrived and the hip and stylin’  bachelor? is ready for action.
                                                 *****
         I decide to go to a different club tonight, but I’m still looking for the same thing as always.  I walk in and the place is very crowded with a younger clientele, and I have to push my way through the crowd to get to the bar and I wait for about five minutes until a bartender asks for my order and I order a Seven and Seven.
         After I get my drink I make my way through the crowd and I see a couple friends of mine and they’re sitting at a table next to the dance floor.  They wave for me to come over so I do and sit down.  My friend Mike is with his girlfriend Donna and my friend Greg is with some girl that he just met here tonight.  We listen to the music and drink and watch people dancing and look at people to see if we know anyone else that’s here tonight.
         A good song is playing and they go to the dance floor and I stay at the table drinking my Seven and Seven and looking around.
         Then I get up once again and head into the mob of people and make my way to where the side of the club that has lots of black light so bright colors, especially white, glows in the dark.  I’m standing around drinking and looking and I’m wearing a white button-up shirt that has black squares on it and I’m wearing grey stone-washed jeans.  I’m glowing like a lighthouse in an attempt to bring a young good-looking lady safe to shore, next to me.  As I continue to look at everyone it seems like they’re safe with their own lighthouses.
         The song is over and I see Mike and Greg and their girlfriend’s leave the dance floor and go back to the table so I go back to the table as well.  We continue to drink and order more drinks and then their girlfriend’s leave together to go to the ladies room.  Mike, Greg, and I look at other girl’s and rate them from one to ten with ten being the best.  Greg looks at a table that’s about ten feet away and he notices some girls sitting there drinking and talking.  Then a couple guys go over there and ask them to dance and they go dance, but there’s one girl that’s still at the table all alone and Greg nudges me with his elbow and I ask, “What?”
         “See that girl all alone at that table?”
         “Yeah.”
         “Does she look attractive to you?”
         I look at her carefully for a moment and I move my head then tell him, “ Yeah she doesn’t look to bad.  A seven or so.”
         “Well, go ask her to dance will ya.”
         So I get up and walk towards her and I get to her table and she’s looking at the dance floor, then I tap her shoulder and she looks at me.  Time for those magic words to flow smoothly out of my mouth.
         “Care to dance?”
         “Sure,” she says quickly.
         So she follows me to the dance floor and I find some room for us to dance and it’s an upbeat song so we’re concentrating on our dance moves and telling each other our names will have to wait until the music slows down a little.  I’m having a great time and she looks very cute and sometimes I have to look at other people dancing and looking at people who are sitting at the tables so I don’t stare at her breasts that are jiggling to the music also.
         The song is over and in between songs I lean towards her ask her name and she says “Debbie.”  I tell her mine and while some people leave the dance floor I ask her if she wants to dance again and she says, “Yes.”  So we continue dancing and I feel good.    Everything in the world is right at this moment.  I’m dancing with an attractive young lady and I’m looking good and having a great time.  The hip and stylin’ bachelor is back!
         After dancing to five straight songs and getting to know a little bit about each other we decide to go get something to drink and rest.  She introduces me to her sister and a couple of guys they know.  We drink and I finish my drink, so I head for the bar.  After awhile the bartender finally asks me what I want and I order a Tequilla Sunrise.  While I wait to get my drink I look to see if I can see Debbie but it’s really crowded by the bar and I can’t see towards the dance floor or the table.  I think to myself that Debbie is really into the hip and stylin’ bachelor and she’s anxious for me to get back so we can dance, talk, and maybe introduce our lips and tongues to each other.
         It seems like forever as I wait to get my drink and finally it arrives and I carefully nudge my way past people though it’s a bonus as I gently brush up against the females chests and asses.  Finally I get to the table but none of them are there, quickly I look at the dance floor and they’re not dancing then I look around the club and I don’t see them.  I stare at the table and notice that their purses are gone and I sit on one of the chairs and slowly take a sip of my drink.  I continually scan the area in hopes of seeing them so I can wave for them to come back.  I think maybe they went to the restroom or they saw someone that they knew and are talking to them.  I continue to drink and songs continue to play.  I’m still alone, my glass is empty and I feel empty as well.  I check my wallet and notice that I don’t have much cash left so I leave alone once again.
         Why did she leave without me?
                                                           ******
         So it’s Saturday night and I’m pretty bummed about what happened last night and I don’t feel like going out, but my roommate Scott is dating a girl who likes country music and they’re going to the country bar and want me to go along.
         “I don’t know.  I don’t want to be the third wheel, the odd man out,” I say.
         “You won’t be,” Scott reassures me.
         We arrive at the bar and inside it has a big open dance floor, a couple of pool tables and dart boards.  There’s a lot of wood and it has a rustic look,  Just about everyone is wearing jeans and t-shirts or plaid shirts.  And the majority of people are wearing cowboy hats and cowboy boots.  I’m still dressed like a city slicker and I’m stuck in the Old West.
         We get a pitcher of Coors Light and head to a table next to a pool table and the dance floor.  We start drinking and playing pool and I’m playing pretty good, making some difficult shots that I normally don’t make.  The three of us are just shooting around but then some woman comes and asks if she could join us,  Scott says sure and he asks her name and she tells us Pam.  Pam joins me as we rack the balls and it’s Scott and Ashley against Pam and me.  I break and a ball goes in and I’m able to make another shot, before I miss.  Pam and I go sit and drink while Scott is on a roll.
         “What’s your name,” Pam asks.
         “Colin,” I tell her.
         “You’re pretty handsome,” she compliments me.
         “Thanks,” I reply and almost blush.
         Scott finally misses and it’s Pam’s turn and I follow her to the table.  She makes her first shot and I clap in approval.  She makes a couple more shots before she misses.
         We go back to the table while Ashley takes her turn and Pam sits closer to me and she asks me questions and seems to be interested in me.  She moves her hand up and down my thigh and at times she leaves her hand close to my crotch.  I feel my cock begin to swell.
         “Let’s go dance,” she says.
         “What about the pool game?”
         “They’ll wait for us or not.  Who cares.  Let’s dance!”
         I look at the dance floor and it’s like I’m in a foreign land watching the people line dancing.
         “I don’t know how to dance to this,” I reluctantly tell her.
         “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you,” she says then lightly kisses my cheek.
         “I don’t know?”
         She takes my hand and I follow her to the dance floor.
         “You’ll do fine,” she sweetly reassures me.
         I watch her and the other people and I’m kind of understanding the steps and movements.  I don’t completely embarrass myself but I’m not that confident either.  Luckily I only accidentally bump into a couple of people as I wrongly stepped to the left instead of the right.  I watch Pam and she’s very good at this and I begin to smile as I watch her.  I feel comfortable talking to her and she seems like a lot of fun and down to earth.  We both are juniors at the college and she’s studying Psychology.
         A slower country song is now playing and she puts her hands on my shoulders and I put my hands on her waist and I can feel about three rolls of fat.  I realize that she’s overweight and not that pretty and I feel like people are staring at me with a smirk on their faces and silently laughing at me.
         I pray that the song ends soon so we can head back to the table and drink and play pool and hang out with Scott and Ashley.  Finally the song ends but Pam wants to continue dancing I tell her that I need a drink and if she wants to dance by herself that’s fine.  She follows me back to the table and we continue to drink and she gives me her number without me asking for it, and we see Scott and Ashley doing the two-step on the dance floor.  As I look at them I’m jealous of Scott because he’s with someone that I would want.  A petite, very attractive sandy-blonde chick with a decent chest and great ass.  While I have someone sitting next to me who now has her hand rubbing my neck and shoulder, and she’s not that pretty and definitely not petite.
         We finish the pitcher of beer and when Scott and Ashley take a break from dancing we order some shots of tequila.  Pam and I are getting along and it’s getting late the bar is about to close and I tell her that I have to go to the bathroom.  She takes me by surprise as she kisses my cheek then smiles at me. While I’m relieving my bladder I nod my head in silent affirmation on what my next move will be.
         As I zip back up and flush the urinal I hear over the speaker system that it’s closing time.  I wait a few seconds then enter the vastness of the club and it’s chaos.  It’s like the steer lining up at the slaughterhouse which I suppose is appropriate since this is a country bar.  In the mass of people I weave and push my through and making sure that Pam doesn’t find me.  Finally I make it to the parking lot and head to Scott’s car.  I wait for a few moments and luckily there’s no sign of Pam, finally Scott and Ashley arrive and we get inside the car.
         “Where’s that Pam girl,” Scott asks.
         “I don’t know and don’t care.  Let’s go,” I tell him.
         He starts the car and we leave.  I stare out the back window and think about the night.
         “It seems you two were getting along.  I mean she was really into you.”
         “Yeah Colin I think she really liked you,” Ashley chimes in.
         I don’t say anything and close my eyes.
         Scott drops me off at our apartment while he and Ashley continue their night.  I make a bowl of Ramen and turn on the t.v.  Cheers is on and I hear Sam and Diane denying or not denying their love for each other and I wish that I had someone to deny or not deny my love for.
         It’s pretty hot and muggy in the apartment so I open the sliding door to the balcony to let a slight breeze move the air around and cool down a bit.  I take out my wallet and pull out the half of cocktail napkin and see her name and phone number on it.  She even drew a smiley face and heart next to her name.  I have it clenched in my fist and I relive the past couple of hours.  And I the hip and stylin’ bachelor toss it in the garbage.  I finish my gourmet snack and go to bed- once again alone.
         Why did I leave her?