My name is Thomas Miller, 46, a former antiques thief and master of sarcasm. Originally from Vancouver, Canada, I have lived in Miami since I was 25, where I am now the head of security for a hotel group. I have hazel eyes, graying black hair, and a sturdy build. After spending 11 years in prison for stealing an antique vase, I got out two days ago. While incarcerated, I corresponded with Emily Ri...

My foot taps impatiently on the dirt path. I had parked my car in the parking lot of the, leaving my phone there stupidly. Or, maybe I did that so I wouldn’t be disturbed by business calls while on this date. Either way…

I check my watch just as a twig snaps and a large, muscular man stumbles forward, a drooling infant strapped to his chest.

“You’re late, Charles,” I say, voice clipped.

Charles...

Claire couldn’t tell if the date was going well.

She was trying to be open, she really was. But walls built as strongly as hers don’t crumble easily. This has been her 14th first date in three months. None of which had ever led to a second. No matter how hard she tried only one word answers would leave her mouth and anything else was a comment that could come off as rude if you didn’t know her sp...

The woman across from me was sobbing hysterically, snatching her hand away from me and sobbing harder when I reached out to try to comfort her — I had been on bad dates before, but never one that had ended quite this dramatically.

It had started when she mentioned her cat. “Ah yes,” I had replied, “human’s narcissistic asshole best friend.” Turned out her beloved cat of 17 years had just died the...

I hate myself. Why do I do this? Why do I put myself in situations like this? I could have said no, that I’m in a relationship, or not looking for a relationship. Of course when she asked to go on a date with me that popped into my mind immediately. Obviously it’s because I’m self destructive and insecure. She’s everything good about life. Her laugh makes people warm, and her smile is perfec...

Why do I do this to myself? Every time they say something nice, every time they compliment me or comment on the layout of the room or the deliciousness of the food I make a joke. They probably hate me. I’d hate me, why would you want to date such a pessimist?

I did warn them beforehand and they said it was okay, they keep smiling at me too which I guess is a good sign. But I wish I could just st...

She’s doing it again.

That thing where she keeps talking about herself in this whole “whoa is me” type tone.

It’s annoying.

I thought she said she didn’t want to be know for her past, yet here she is constantly showing me songs she wrote when she was a child, to music videos she released 5 years ago.

It’s cool, sure.

But it’s also super lame, and nothing I would have been remotely interested ...

“So what do you do for living?” I ask

“I hack into people’s social security and steal their money” he says jokingly

“Really!?! So do I” I tell him

“wh-what” he replies “I was joking”

“I wasn’t” I say dead panned

“Alright.. what’s your favorite hobby? Mine is football”

“Oh my girlfriend is the star goalie of her local foot ball team.. she’s a keeper.” I tell him

“We need a check”...

“You’re a riot,” she laughed, holding her hand close to her mouth.

“A riot, huh?” He cocked a brow. “That’s a new one, I’ll admit.”

The girl’s laughter morphed to surprise. “Really? You’re hilarious! I thought everyone knew.”

He shrugged. “If some people aren’t that bright, there’s nothing we can do about it,” he said with a sigh.

“You think I’m bright,” she grinned. She had a cat-like smile. ...

Alright, be funny, be chill. Just repress all instinct to joke with morbid humor. It’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re going to get married and have ten kids who know nothing of their dad’s actual humor. Whoops....