First Impressions Count

“Howdy?”, “Hey?”, “Hello?”

Jesus, no, no, no!

Too youthful, too casual, too slow.

Is my hair alright?

Is my top too tight?

Check my teeth. Do my eyes mask fright?

Is the bus running late?

Do you think she’ll hate

My daft laugh and my clumsy gait?

“You I’m here to see?”

Christ, she’s talking to me.

Throat dries up, shuffle nervously.

“Will we take this booth?”

“Are you getting food?”

Am I chatting about what I should?

Am I chewing enough?

Or is this too much?

Should my eyes be on hers, further up?

I collapse in bed,

Breathe, pulse in my head.

Lie awake hating everything I said.

“So, how was last night?

Was your date alright?”

My friends crowd around, eyes bright.

Then I strangely find,

That to her I'd been blind.

Did I like her? Who knows? Never mind.