tng, don't be naive. Do you think he could have accidentally hid his shoes?? I guess maybe if the lights were on St. J. could have found a note that says, "Your shoes are in the broom closet."

I guess.

Sigh, bad dates. I wrote about one here. My transgression involved getting a blanket.

Around the same time as all that, I went out with another fellow -- a phd, a researcher and writer. We were sitting in his living room after dinner and he asked, "Would you like to hear me play the piano?" Of course, yes, why not. Is that the test?

He played and played and played and played.

And played and played and played.

And played.

What freakin' part of this date is about me?

Good thing he didn't hide my shoes.

One more, from an earlier time...a date with a prof at my mountainhigh university. He said, "We can hike down a path, climb over a fence, and cut through a hole in another fence and get into the reservoir." Wow, wow, that sounded fun and romantic and naked and private.

So we hiked and climbed and cut - and this Adonis, suggested we take off our clothes. It was a beautiful summer day. Then, without consulting me, he decided to swim laps in the reservoir. He was a swimmer. I was not.

And he swam and swam and swam and swam and swam. You get the picture.

Marriage (coupling, partnering) exists to save us all from dating.

At least, these days, a hook-up is a hook-up. Except, I guess, in StJohn's case.