Nancy scoffs at her phone. We look at her expectantly. She looks up, notices us looking at her, and looks back at the phone.
"This guy Thomas at work, he asked if I wanted to go out for drinks tonight. He says, 'Sorry about not following through with our plans tonight. I've been at home writing poetry. I had some demons I needed to work through. I really think we should take things slow anyway. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. Right?' So I said, 'Are you breaking up with me before our first date?'"
She looks up. I raise my eyebrows to affect shock.
"That's one hundred percent failure, right? I mean, there's no way of recovering from that."
She looks at me for a long time. I continue, "There's no way you'd consider dating him now, right? Nancy, tell me there's no way you'd consider dating this guy."
"Right." She looks back at her phone. She smiles and shakes her head as she turns the screen off. The pile of pork in front of her is negligible, and she further reduces it when she drops a small, glistening piece into her mouth. "What a creep."
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