This is my life. 

*************************
Our heroine, DM, has just been contacted by her friend, Beth.  It is Thursday night and time for karaoke.  Camera focuses on DM entering the elevator.  She appears tired (that’s because she IS tired) as she presses the button for the 1st floor.

Camera stays on DM as she leans her head against the elevator wall.  She is not paying attention to the numbers flashing on the thing that flashes the floor numbers on the elevator.  Camera tightens on the number 15.  DM does not notice this and starts to head out as the doors open.

On the other side of the door is an attractive man, possibly anywhere between 25 to 30.  DM almost walks into him. 

DM (visibly startled):  Oh.  Sorry.

DM steps back into the elevator.

Attractive Man (AM):  That’s okay.
DM:  I guess I’m not used to people going out at this time of the night.

Close up on AM’s watch.  It is not quite midnight.

DM:  But then I’m old.

There is a brief pause where it is apparent that DM is dying inside.  Perhaps the words "But then I’m old" can echo throughout the elevator.

AM:  Where are you going, if I may ask?
DM:  The Chalet.  A friend of mine is the karaoke host there.  I go there every Thursday.

The elevator reaches the 1st floor.  AM allows DM to exit in front of him.  He smiles his brilliant smile (nice teeth!).

AM:  Have a good time.
DM:  Yes, you too.

The camera follows our heroine as she walks to the waiting car of her friend.  She is shaking her head the entire time, dismayed over her ability to transform herself into a dork whenever talking to a member of the opposite sex.

*************************

Seriously.  This actually happened.  It’s amazing I didn’t say something about "You young kids today" or talk about "When I was your age, I used to walk to the bar 20 miles.  Uphill both ways!  In the snow."

I think we can pretty much guarantee that I will never ever have sex again.  Well, at least if it involves talking to someone.  Although, if I’d lower my standards a little bit, I’m thinking I probably could have got lucky* with the incredibly drunk man that kept wandering over to where Liz, Beth and I were talking about Beth’s soon to be house.  There’s nothing that says sexy like having a complete stranger come up, put his arm around your shoulder and drag your head down until you are inches away from his armpit.

*And when I say lucky, I mean the exact opposite of lucky.  Which I guess would be unlucky but that just doesn’t seem strong enough of a word.

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