We're 3/4 through a bottle of Merlot, it's been almost two hours, and the longer we sit at that bar, the more interested I find myself in WeJustMetTonight.
Finally, there's a lull in the conversation and it seems very likely that this situation is about to get intimate. And then he says...
(Brace yourself.)
(Seriously.)
"You know how there's this moment when you first meet someone and you're consciously presented with two distinct choices that will determine the future of the relationship? I have been wanting to kiss you all night and right now, right as it seems about to actually happen, I can't imagine what it will be like to do it after all this time."
Not kidding. Happened.
And I don't know why, but that very second, I made this split decision that I was NOT interested in WeJustMetTonight. I felt he had just elevated the pressure of that moment to a level that no mere mortal could reach. And just knowing that, I'd rather kiss broken glass than do anything to damage his little speech... and perhaps, my own ego.
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