|Home||About||Blogroll||But whatever you do, don't click here!|
Friday, February 06, 2004
Last Friday, Non-Arizona Cheryl and her savvy sister chatted with men in a bar. It was noisy. The band had just stopped playing. The music was still reverberating in my head. Temporarily deaf, I leaned over to hear. Perhaps someone was talking to me. Because the next thing I heard was "You are so quiet."
Next fellow. I saw his lips moving.
"Sorry, I can't hear," I said.
"Your name is Sorina?"
What I need is Silent Dating.
I sit down at the bar, see someone tantalizing across the room, jot a compliment ("Your earlobes remind me of the succulent wild boars roaming through the pampas grasses of the Himalayan foothills") and pass it down.
A note returns: "Why, I make wild boars practice celibacy!"
Back goes my response: "And I vandalize equestrian statues! Wow! We have so much in common!"
The Tantalizer's face wrinkles in disgust: "This is going too fast for me. I need some space."
Undeterred, I turn my attentions to the lovely peg-legged aristocrat standing nearby. I furiously scribble, "Don't tell me you were caught in a horde of teething lemurs too!"
And the Aristocrat writes back: "Mon Dieu! I thought I was the only survivor of the Great Madagascar Rampage of '59!"
On my return note I pen a meow.
The Aristocrat smiles lasciviously and writes: "Shall we embrace ennui together?"
Yes, I think Silent Dating might work for me.
Comments: Post a Comment