Him: Ugh. I’m so full. That was good food, actually.
Him: Yeah, I was expecting it to be bad. Most people are bad cooks.
Me: Oh. Thanks?
Him: Don’t worry. It’s a compliment.
Me: I wasn’t worried. But thank you.
Him: Still. I thought there would be pie.
Me: I didn’t make any today.
Him: I wonder if your pie is any good?
Me: It’s a mystery.
Him: Should I help you do the dishes?
Me: Nah. It’s always awkward doing the dishes in another person’s house. I know where everything goes.
Him: But I feel bad!
Me: Well don’t. I invited you over for dinner.
Him: We should drink this wine I brought. I don’t like the beer.
Me: The beer’s almost gone anyway – but I better lay off the wine.
Him: Why? It’s Saturday night.
Me: I’m feeling oddly full. Like indigestion somehow. Plus I’m teaching all day tomorrow so I better just behave.
Him: Boring! I’m gonna drink this wine.
Me: Have at it.
Him: You’re acting weird. Can I look at your books and judge you on your bookshelf?
Me: Sure, but most of the stuff I really like has been lent out to people that haven’t returned it. So…
Him: That’s what I’d say too, if I were being judged.
Him: Ohmygod. You have the Popol Vuh! Can I have this book?
Him: Can I have this book? Did you read it already?
Me: Uh, sure… You can have the book.
Him: No. I don’t really want it.
Me: It sounded like you did. I just had to think about whether I’m ever going to read it, and I don’t think I am. So go ahead and take it.
Him: Nah. It’s in English, and my professor translated it in Spanish. I think I’ll read it in Spanish. I don’t want to be tainted by the English version.
Me: Yes. By all means – don’t taint yourself.
Him: Ew. Why do you have Joy Luck Club?
Me: Somebody gave it to me. I thought it was a good read.
Him: It’s super racist.
Me: Really? How so? It didn’t strike me as terribly racist.
Him: Oh I don’t know. I haven’t read it. My professor says it’s racist and I believe him. I’m getting more wine.
Me: I’ve had a few Chinese American friends read it and say it was relatively close to their own experiences as first generation Americans. I don’t think Amy Tan is a member of the Klan or anything.
Him: Hm. Wow. I’m really plowing through this wine. You should have some with me.
Me: I don’t know if that’s a great idea. I’m feeling a little off. I ate this ham earlier today. It was really cheap and I think it was leftover from Easter. I’m feeling strange.
Him: Something’s wrong with the lighting in here. You need something less bright than this lamp, but brighter than this other one.
Me: I have this – flip that switch over there.
Him: Ohmygod! What is this??
Me: It’s an antique x-ray light from the 1950’s. There’s an actual x-ray in there, too.
Him: Ew. Gross. I don’t like it. I do not like it.
Me: Okay then. Turn it off.
Him: I’m pouring myself some more wine.
Me: Go for it.
Him: I’m not leaving until I finish this wine.
Me: Well you don’t have far to go.
Him: Let’s lay on your bed for a minute.
Me: Hey. You’re really cute, but I’m starting… Feel my forehead. Do I have a fever?
Him: Um. NO. You don’t.
Me: You didn’t feel my forehead.
Him: Come on. Just lay down with me.
Me: I’m really feeling out of sorts. Like, I think I may have eaten tainted food.
Him: Ugh. Look. I’m going to be straightforward. I want to have sex. Do you want to have sex?
Me: I think you’re attractive – but I’m really not feeling well. I think I gave myself food poisoning, somehow.
Him: You’re acting irrational and weird. Make out with me.
Me: You need to work on your game.
Me: You don’t call people weird and irrational and then ask them to make out. Listen to me, okay? I think I have a fever.
Him: So, sex, or no sex?
Me: No sex. Probable diarrhea.
Him: Me and my friends are going dancing tonight. You should come.
Me: I. Am. Ill.
Him: Okay, cool. Am I ever going to see you again, mister?
Me: Maybe. Maybe we can hang out again…
Him: Look. Just tell me right now yes or no.
Me: This is a first date. Cool it on the ultimatums.
Him: I’m not leaving until I finish my wine.
Me: I gathered.
Him: I really like your apartment, actually. I expected not to like it.
Me: Thank you. You’re too kind. Jerk.