Blind date

He was a loud-talker. Sounds like a Seinfeld episode, no? Anyway, he was. And I felt bad because how do you tell someone who you just met to use an indoor voice? It's impossible. I schemed of ways of doing so and failed like Nicholas Cage. The bar filled up and still his voice reigned king. The bartender turned up the music to no avail. People gave me looks to shush up my husband. My husband? Instead, I rudely ate the delicious tuna tartare he paid for, and sipped my wine with a lowered gaze. Poor guy. On paper, we had a lot in common; a love for literature, art and food. But he greeted me with a brazen kiss and seemed to think my knee was a perfect resting spot for his palm during our two hour conversation. He was also writing his thesis on the history of celibacy. I smiled nervously and thanked him kindly when the bill arrived. Shrug. The tuna tartare was damn good.