He pulls away. “It’s just that you’re too cool to sleep with.”

“Huh?” In the back corner of a booth in the back of a nicely lit, red dive bar, she was just about to put her lips to him. Then he says that.

“Oh god. Not this shit,” she sighs.

“What?”

“I’m not you’re bestest girlfriend just because we’ve hung out this much. Ok?”

“What!? You tried to kiss me!”

“Yeah, like, slutty. Stop trying to make us a ‘thing’.”

“Ok?”

“What?”

“I thought I was giving you a compliment…”

“Don’t, Gene…”

“You rocked my world tonight! Everything I said was different from what you had to say. But we didn’t pause on stupid contradictions. We just went from one subject to the next and there was no problem!” Gene pauses to smile—grinny— and through the froth on his beard he says, “We disagree on a lotta’ shit, but we still get along.”

“Well—yeah. We get along.” The one side of her cheek puckers when she’s being smug.

Read the whole thread: A Field Guide to the Socially Inept