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.

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