Monday, Nov. 01, 2004 - 12:15 a.m.

2:05 p.m. Sitting across from my lunch date, busily amusing himself attempting to even the wobbly table with Splenda sweetener packets, I’m reminded that I used to date a fellow who preferred to endlessly stare at a task rather than attempt it.

2:19 p.m. Sitting across from my lunch date, prudently entering all my pertinent information into his Blackberry, I’m reminded that I used to date a jerk that preferred to promise he’d call to actually calling.

2:49 p.m. Sitting across from my lunch date, his hand probing for my knee under the table, I’m reminded that I used to date a guy, in fact two guys, who preferred to tease me rather than deliver.

2:51 p.m. Then there were a couple of boy-men that I killed time with, a couple of couples that I wasted time with and more than a few creeps, rats, and sleaze balls that I was smart enough to avoid spending too much time with.

3:01 p.m. Sitting across from my lunch date, actively debating DSL vs. cable modem, I can’t help but to wonder why last night I would dream that Patricia Heaton, star of the CBS laugher Everybody Love’s Raymond, was dressed in my favorite childhood play clothes consisting of a worn pair of baby blue Levi’s corduroy pants and a faded Pajaro Dunes T-shirt and screaming, “Para qué usted me toma, una cierta clase de idiota, una cierta clas de tonto. ¿Está usted loco? ¿Es usted? ¿Es usted? ¿Está eso él, usted está loco? ¿Hable para arriba, qué es incorrecto con usted? ¿Y quién desgasta azul ligero, me excusa, panas azules del bebé más?” at the mailbox.

3:19 p.m. “What? A…no I mean I was a…just thinking you’re probably right…DSL is probably much better.”

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