Fritz is just as cute as the dickens. Cute like you would not believe. I overwhelmed him, though, and apologized profusely for overwhelming him, but could not help it.
I blathered on about everyone. I called Sarcastro and asked him impertinent questions on Fritz’s behalf. I talked about how cute Bob Krumm is in real life and why I adore libertarians. And then, I made him a little napkin cooter and showed him around it.
I could see the look of terror in his eyes and yet, I could not stop. No, once the folds of the napkin looked sufficiently cooter-like, I had to point out the particular features of the landscape he should be sure not to miss if he ever encounters one.
I believe he then left the restaurant to go in search of a men’s-only island where he could live.
Really, it’s amazing that people want to meet me. I am a total crazy mess.
[Edited add: Here’s Fritz’s take.]
Just like on Sex and the City or Will and Grace or all those other shows about urban single women that I never watched, I’m off to spend my Valentine’s Day lunch with a gay man. We’ll try to perpetuate all kinds of stereotypes–he’ll say “You go girl” and I’ll say “Why can’t I meet a guy like you, but straight?” and he’ll say “Men suck” and I’ll say “No, they must not all suck.” and he’ll say “the good ones do, honey, the good ones do.” Then he’ll pretend to be my boyfriend for some reason and I’ll be crushed when he actually finds true love.
Shit, that’s just like my real life. Let’s not do that.
Do y’all remember when Fritz admitted he’d never seen a vagina? That was some funny shit.
It turns out that I’ve found the perfect solution. All the hotness of a bald, biker dude; all your curiosity satisfied.
…God, that dude is hot. I’d fuck him…
Oops. I got distracted there. If I don’t return from lunch, tell the police to start with questioning this dude.