Forgive me, but I just

Forgive me, but I just don’t think I can bear a recap of the ANTM finale. I don’t think I can dredge up enough enthusiasm for the task. I will say that I think Trump is going to hire two apprentices tonight, because no one likes a twist better than the Donald. If I’m wrong I owe you a helicopter ride around the city and half an hour in my presence. But if I’m right, you owe me a meeting with some random sports team.

On of the companies we work with sent around an email saying they’re sending out 1400 chocolate bars tomorrow to “corporate assistants” (I suppose that means me), some of which contain golden tickets that are worth money. I have no idea how I got to be on this list, but let’s everyone say a little $5000-golden-ticket prayer for Liz. Thank you.

Do people still have wacky (I almost spelled that “whacky) dating adventures anymore? I feel like many of my friends are dating stable people or in a lull at the moment and I haven’t gotten my fill of crazy date stories in a long time. Does being married make me want to live vicariously through other people’s bad dates? Have I lost my empathy? (I do seem to remember bad dates as actually being “bad” and “not fun” so maybe this is why people seem reluctant to go on bad dates so that they can tell me the story.) The last good one I heard involved the guy wearing women’s socks and talking about interior decorating all night while trying to make a move on the lady. The one before that involved a callous guy and a not-so-veiled reference to the 24-hour convenience store down the street. Before that we had the guy who talked about himself all night, got high, and called his grandma. And the one where the guy stopped mid-date to return home and get his sister/roommate some pizza. These were not good dates, but these were good stories. Please try to go on some bad dates and tell me about them. I mean, not like BAD, but humorous bad. Again, thanks.

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