What Boys are Good For II (Dating Scheme)

    Am about to jump in the shower.  Picked up my faux fur coat from the dry cleaner’s.  Have prepared a cheese and cracker plate.  A little Bill Maher on the TV in the background.  The parrots are back in their cages.  My expensive analyst agrees that I have the personality of the Norway Shooter.  What could go wrong?  


It occurred to me, while painting my toenails: while a boy is in the house, how might he be pressed into emptying the dust buster with the cockroach inside of it?  Because you can’t just ASK for something like that.  It doesn’t exactly spell “sexytimes.”  


I know:  I’ll tell him the story before he gets drunk, and if he has the tact that God gave a goat, he’ll offer to do it himself.  


Or is that setting him up for failure?


I think this date was a bad idea.  I should have just scooped someone new off of Craigslist.  But then I would be worried about him killing me and leaving my body under the bed.  When you are a woman, you have to think about these things.  


P.S.  Is there anything–ANYTHING–as humiliating in this world as finding expired condoms in your nightstand?  


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