Satuday's Date

I don't ask for much.

All right, maybe I do, but I don't think I ask for much, at least on a first date. A little coffee, a little conversation, and a little bit of a sense that the person I' m actually caffinating and conversating with actually, you know, plays.for.my.team.

Since we're talking about this, you can probably guess that the person that I went out with on Saturday was "questionable." Unless, of course, I've totally missed a world where a straight man admits that he's obsessed with Broadway Musicals, and wanted to know which ones I was in, and if I was interested in being in his next one.

As far the rest of the conversation, oh wait, there wasn't. Well, I suppose you could count the "interview portion" where he started to realize that he was sounding just a little flamboyant and started grilling me about work as conversation, if I wasn't so scared.

I tried. Really. To steer the conversation into another direction. ANY DIRECTION. Sadly, it was not to be. I talked about Homicide: Life on the Street, which somehow jumped straight over Law and Order and found itself squarely on the door of Rent. Literature launched a decidedly one-sided debate over what was the better show: Phantom or Les Miz. I decided not to go with travel: If we were about to enter an Oklahoma! or South Pacific arena, I knew I wasn't going to be able to withhold myself from running screaming from the coffee shop.

The evening wasn't entirely wasted, though. After I left the coffee shop, I escaped to the bar where I started writing (best way to get noticed: write quietly to yourself in a crowded bar). I met a fellow writer who asked to see some of my stuff and give it a bit of a critique. I sent him the voting story, and I'm debating sending some of the others (like the lonely lawyer). If you've got suggestions, feel free to put 'em in the comments!