submit or we'll blunt snoop dog silly
WHAT FOLLOWS AFTER HE STEPS THROUGH THE DOOR OF
THE RESTAURANT IS PRETTY MUCH A GIVEN
BY ELIZABETH ARRIGHETTI

There are a million reasons why this is not going to work. For one thing you live in Canada, which in itself is not a reason not to date someone, I have found that Canadians as a whole are somewhat boring but generally nice people. But what I mean is that you live in Canada and I do not. This makes having sex between the two of us kind of difficult and expensive if you start factoring in all the long-distance telephone calls and the airplane tickets and then, once we're finally broke from all that, the train tickets and then finally the bus tickets. Then there's our self-respect to consider, because, let's face it, we're totally hot for each other and once we've gone broke buying all those tickets the next step is to become indebted to our parents after lying and saying we are going to spend the money they send to us on food when we both know what we're going to do with that money is head straight to the Super K-Mart and buy more calling cards so we can sneak off to the break room at work and have phone sex when what we're really supposed to be doing is filing and photocopying. Then of course we'll be fired because some brown-nosing jackass, brand new to the company, will be standing outside the break room when one of us, likely me, says something like, "Yeah, baby, I want you to give it to me hard," and then this brown-nosing jackass will head straight to the CEO or the CFO or whatever abbreviation is currently running the company and say, "Guess what I just heard so-and-so say in the break room?" And then we'll be broke, indebted to our parents, and without jobs so the next thing you know we'll have to default on our leases and we'll become "slow payers" on our credit cards and then ten years from now when we've both found someone we want to marry, and we decide to buy a nice house with a "Starlight Yellow" exterior and "Taupe" shutters, we'll be turned down by the mortgage company and then our prospective spouses will dump us and then there we'll be, in our thirties, alone, childless, without a spouse or a nice house. Then on the weekends we'll sit on the couch in our underwear watching old movies like "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" when all our friends are busily making cute but slightly annoying blue-eyed babies, cutting perfect rectangles of green grass, and roasting hotdogs on the gas grills they bought from "Home Depot" after reading the special "Backyard Grilling" issue of "Consumer Reports." And I haven't even mentioned how it never, ever works out for me when I try and date a handsome man. And let's face it, you're quite handsome. I don't think anyone could honestly say you aren't totally hot. I mean, just look your jaw. And your mouth. Has anyone ever told you what a nice mouth you have? What was I saying? Oh, yes, your mouth. I'll bet you're a great kisser. Did I ever tell you about the last guy I dated? He was such a bad kisser, like pressing your lips to a fish gasping for air. But you, I think we could make something happen. Did you ever hear a phrase like that and really believe it? I know I said something like that on my last job interview, the one for the position as "Junior Sales Assistant," and I didn't really mean it. I know I was just trying to shine that guy's apple so he'd give me a job. But this time I really mean it. I think you have potential. Really, I do. 

[Forever after at http://eyeshot.net/arrighetti.html
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