Absolutely nothing.

Except maybe lawn care and vehicle maintenance. Since I have neither, they are worse than useless. Not only do they not serve a function, but I end up wasting useful time that I could be, you know, learning what the word caulk means instead of running around like a lunatic to show up for a date with a married man.

"What?" you say. "Married? Who knew?How would the lovely Bunni waste so much of her valuable free time on a married man?Especially since she is so cynical."

Right. Cynical. Like Polly fuckin' Anna I am. No matter how many times I've been around the block-lied to, misled, betrayed, abused, insulted, my cynicism is really a defense against my natural good natured belief in people. Otherwise how do you explain what happened?

Derek slipped me his email last Friday. He is good looking-although he took his chances with that pink polo shirt. Initially, what with the nice arm definition and the tattoos I thought he was gay. Nope, because he flirted with me so much the stalker was bitter. He had to work the next day and so he slipped me his email before he left. I sent him an email thinking it couldn't hurt. We emailed back and forth and he asked me out for Friday. Well couldn't go because of fangoria so we agreed to tonight. This was before I realized how much more time I would need for the pocketbook and everything else.

So after running around like a decapitated loon all day, I got ready for my "date."I was excited because you know a seemingly normal person was expressing relatively normal interest in me.

These things do not happen.

I am the type of person who is wooed by alligator owners not young lawyers.

About an hour before I met the date in question, I discovered that the drain in the shower was amazingly clogged. There was no way I could take a shower. But I had been cleaning stuff all day. I was disgustingly sweaty. I had to wash. So I put towels on the floor and turned on the shower and stuck my head and body into the water when needed and washed myself off.

Afterwards I got dressed, black top and jeans and realized I've gained way too much weight back. Have to return to the starvation diet soon.

Show up for my date and notice about half way through our conversation that he was wearing goddamned wedding ring.

Why, God, Why?

It's not like I wanted to elope, but it would be nice, you know, nice to have a guy actually want me for something a little more serious than a unbridled sex. Do men desire me? Absolutely. These last two weeks it's been like someone dumped water buffalo hormones in the city's water supply. Men want to remove my clothes with their teeth. But then, I've never had a shortage of men who want to sleep with me, but I want someone who will snuggle with me on the couch. And you know the married guys are rarely up for that.

So he walked me home and SHOOK MY HAND. He asked me out for next week. I gave him the cheerleader thing. "Oh yeah sure," bounced up the stairs.

It's at moments like this that inspired the line that made me famous in the office:

You know, when I say that I hate all men, I don't mean all men, I just mean every one I ever met.