On the second date
he remembered the napkin.
Except…He used hers.
“Oh wow! That looks… err, different. Hmm. So? Are they going to bring us some forks and plates?”
“No. You pick up the food using your fingers with a small piece of the injera.”
“So this time, I’m SUPPOSED to eat with my hands?”
“Yes. This time. But please don’t lick your fingers clean again. They do have napkins.”
Missed Connections are filled with good, bad, and hopeful-in-Seattle-haiku. Did you write one? Did you find one? Did you respond to one? Before you reach for another napkin, email the link to Lovelorn Poets. We’ll preserve those finger-lickin’-good syllables for all eternity.