Mid-week pickup line


Another Xanga gem: “I’d kage bunshin myself all the time just to be with Irene.”

(For those of you not in the know, that’s “Naruto’s Shadow Clone Technique” to you.)



Reversing douchebag conditioning

I recently went on some very nice dinner dates with the types of companion I guess you could call atypical given my history with men.

Having gone through a relatively lengthy dating drought and also having lost almost all hope of any decent company involving males and either non-platonic chemistry or non-awkward conversation, I was pleasantly surprised by the change in pace. So before I go on further, here’s to the nice guys that mistakenly think niceness detracts from game.

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21 and over

Working at a bar presents a surprising number of opportunities to gain new insight on people and my generation. This last weekend, I was reminded of what it was like to be 21.

Or even under 21. You know how it is, that feeling of immense pride when you whip your ID out of your wallet and hand it to the bouncer, knowing that you can finally enter a bar without legal hassle (or you have a really, really well-made fake ID), but still feeling that thrill of the slight fear you may still be rejected. Now I just get indignant whenever I’m even asked for an ID.

So last Saturday, a chubby-cheeked cherubian boy stepped up to the bar, looking mighty pleased with himself. He shyly thrust forward a neatly folded $20 bill.

“What’s the most beers I can get for this?” he asked, holding the bill up high and waving it at me at a very specific angle.

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Love is blind

One afternoon back in March, Molly and I were on the El headed downtown from Evanston campus when a blind man with the most gorgeous golden retriever of a seeing-eye dog boarded our train. We watched as the man and his dog sauntered over and took a seat right next to ours.

Dog and myself must have felt a connection because immediately after settling in, she began to sniff in the vicinity of my hand. Smiling (but for whose benefit I wasn’t sure—I wondered whether it was true you could hear a genuine smile in someone’s speech), I directed my voice toward the blind man.

“Excuse me,” I asked, pondering standard protocol with regards to seeing-eye dogs, “but would you mind if I said hello to your dog?”

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