Pulled from the headlines! A four part installment.
You met a girl at a bar. (Where else are you gonna meet her, tiger? The church social?) She’s a six foot tall, 23-year-old statuesque brunette who would probably intimidate most men, but not you. You gab for twenty minutes and score the digits.
On your first date four days later you arrive at the swank Connecticut Ave lounge ten minutes late, as per your usual routine. Your date is already there, drinking a cocktail. A smile flashes across your face, as much for seeing her again as for the thought that you will not have to buy her a drink. You sit down and notice she is glowering, her legs crossed geometrically. You hope she’ll uncross in homage to Basic Instinct.
“You’re ten minutes late.”
“I don’t *feel* tardy.”
She doesn’t laugh. “Are you always late for dates?”
You pause. She’s reacting to your lack of punctuality worse than most women.
What do you do?
******
You are on the date with the Nordic Amazon from the above story. You are an avid reader and feel he has made your life immeasurably better, and at a cost of nothing! Which, in occasional misanthropic moments, rubs your hero raw. Your date mentions she reads local DC blogs and likes most of them, and you wonder about bringing up your fandom, thinking the wealth of topics about sex and social dynamics written by your Infallible Lord, Master, and Philosophical Heir to the Divine Right of Kings would provide much fodder for rapport building and sexual future pacing.
What do you do?
******
Same as above, except this time, before you have decided whether to announce your everlasting platonic love, your date mentions she has read him and hates him. You mull in the mind whether ’tis more opportunistic to admit fandom and suffer the slings and arrows of angry, yet energetically and erotically charged, conversation about inspired themes, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing or denying thricely Disciple Peter-like the ugly truths he tells the world end any chance of the date imploding in your face like an overmicrowaved burrito.
What do you do?
******
You are me. You are on the date with the girl from the above story and have been talking with her about the book you are writing. She is intrigued. A little later in the date, she mentions she reads a lot of local blogs. She says there are some she reads that she really hates. You nod again. Then she asks you if you write a blog.
What do you say?
She also mentions she ran a triathlon the day before.
Now what do you do?
Test begins… now.
