The Analyst and I went out this weekend in search of male companionship. Actually, we went to a movie with The Cubadorian and then burritos and beers, and found ourselves wondering about the possibilities of male companionship in the college and post college crowd of chicks dressed up for each other and guys standing around drinking and not talking to said chicks at our local bar and tavern, The Ho.
After two beers, The Analyst drew herself up proud and straight, climbed on the bar, and yelled to the crowd:
"Excuse me! Is there a reasonably attractive man who is moderately smart and interesting here? No?? Just checking."
After a few more beers and lowered standards, she again ascended the bar and cried out:
"HEY! Is there a decent looking guy with at least the intelligence not to pay full price for brand names when department stores exist for that very reason here? Anybody? No? Okay. I didn't think so."
We tried to play cupid for the bar, matching groups of aimless and disaffected twenty-somethings with each other, but they were having none of it. I offered The Analyst a dollar to ask a guy sitting next to her what his sign was. She said it wasn't enough.
I guess romance is dead, my friends.
The cat may need to see a behavior specialist. I'm wondering if my HMO covers kitty shrinks..