A waitress I met at Bennigan's a few months ago called me last night. Yea, I had given her my number, yaddah yaddah, but she had a boyfriend at the time. No big deal. Things went on, and I didn't really talk to her much until last night.

"Just wanted to let you know that I'm single as can be," she says. Oh boy. First she wants me to take her out on a date.

That's trouble.

No, I say, I'm not a dating kinda guy. Which is kind of true, I guess. But really, I don't want any attachments. Yea, yea, I'm terrible. I know.


"You know," she says, "if you want free burgers at Bennigans and anything else you'll have to act fast."

She's got me there. If there's one thing that Sparks is all about, it's getting laid and getting free burgers. Oh yea.


But no. I've gotta get up for an accounting exam. At 8 a.m. You think learning about accounting sucks normally? Try it early in the morning. So I tell her no. She begs to come over and cuddle, but my roomate's home, I gotta get up early, so I tell her no. Then she drops the bomb.


"You know, you're gonna have to step up if you want to get an edge over the other ten guys who just walked into my life."


Uh oh. That's not good. Flashing caution lights. Danger, Danger, Will Robinson.

But no. That wasn't enough for her. She also had to leave me a nice long voicemail about how I "better get my balls off the couch and make a move," cause I really "need an edge," even though she "wants to date you so fucking bad."

Yea. Sparks found a crazy one again.


"...and one of these guys is a car salesman in charge of 8 different lots in Pennsylvania. He's the owner's son, and he's about to inherit the business."

Great. Super. At this point, I just hang up the phone, turn off the volume, and delete her from my contacts. That'll work. Right?

No. See, apparently since there's so many guys lined up for her, she needs to fill up my facebook too.

 Yea. I'm not the one beggin' here, honey. I'll take it or leave it. Either or.


I think I know whether to take it or leave it.