Thank God We Don't Do THAT Anymore!

The other day Pkilla was regaling me with a touching story of unrequited teenage love, in which she left clues for her crush to figure out who his mystery crusher was. Either he was obtuse, or she left things like "My name does NOT rhyme with rhinoceros" and "I am female, in your grade, and you know my name." After telling her tale, there was a big sigh of relief, from her at least, when she revealed she no longer needs to go completely out of her way to impress or catch a crush. I say from her, because in many ways (ok, all ways) I still do.

I'm hoping to trick one woman who may end up being rich in a few years to move to NYC and go out with me, at which point she can support my photographic habit (tax write-off for supporting the arts!). Then there's the herb girl at the farmer's market, who has totally captivated my heart. I asked her out, but she didn't think her boyfriend would like that much and informed me I had missed the boat. When's the next boat though? I now bring her blueberries grown in my garden in an attempt to impress her, much like older men drive shiny red convertibles or bower birds decorate their nest with super pretty things. "Here's a zucchini from my yard," I'll say. "Isn't it delicious? Please, enjoy these perfectly formed blueberries from my bush." The subtext is clear; I can grow vegetables and fruit pretty well, wouldn't I make a great mate? It's always been my belief that good gardening is a mark of virility. So, ladies: be impressed by my agricultural green thumb, as I'm a good provider, and let me take you to see Hellboy 2, after which we can be amorous.