Mizutamari ni utsuru sekai
(The World’s Reflection in a Puddle)

So last night me and some friends got together, and decided to catch up over a beer or ten. As is by now commonplace, conversation veered towards the fairer sex and our trysts with the likes of them. Fool that I am, I had mentioned to this raucous flock, passingly at that, that I happen to find a girl that i met ‘cute’. This of course, under the unctuous and unholy influence of alcohol led them to the conclusion that I must espouse her and thusly produce healthy offspring. Failure to comply would no doubt have an adverse effect on my physical well being. This of course, was last night. This is the next morning. All of us nice kids are sober, solemnly at work, with no recollection of indiscretions of the night past. And I am back to being what can be termed the silly point in the cricket match that is the dating process. I always have to be on my guard, I might get my genitalia hurt in the process, and there is a lot of general appealing and screaming after every ball.

I am not what you might call a dating wizard. In fact, I am hardly an apprentice. Around last year I had finally deciphered, after a long string of meretricious debacles, that I am not what you would call relationship compliant. All my attempts at being a good date have been fruitful until about five months in a relationship, after which the other partner in said endeavor starts realizing that she needs ‘more’ than just movies, lunch, parties and fun. Then starts a downward spiral wherein said partner (hereafter referred to as evil she dam from hell) initiates a procedure, which only ends in the termination of the partnership. With that in mind, I decide to go ahead with my latest adventure with succinctness and sententious precision and ingenuity. I approached the aforementioned damsel, and initiated transaction.

[Me]: I am here to negotiate a date.
What the fuck did I just say? Man! I shouldn’t let my brain do my thinking.
[Girl]: Wha..?
Ah! The traditional innocent approach. She knows not that I am a master at deciphering female conversational idiosyncrasies.
[Me]: (firmly this time) I am here to initiate a dating process that would entail mild entertainment in the form of some cinema, food, and the consumption of the same with gusto.
[Girl]: Who’s Gusto?
[Me]: Woman! Play not with the all-knowing master! Let us settle down on the number of such excursions over the course of the next five months.
Ok this is just plain crazy. Lets just take the slap and the meeting of female knee with male gonads sportingly, and get it over with.
[Girl]: (sighs) Alright, whatever.
Heh. Told you I am a natural at this.
[Me]: Ten.
[Girl]: Zero.
Ok, this might throw some people off guard, but I am good at bargaining. This was expected.
[Me]: (coolly) Nine.
[Girl]: Zero.
[Me]: Eight
[Girl]: Zero.
[Me]: (slightly desperate now) Four
Yes I know I skipped a few numbers. This was to throw her off guard.
[Girl]: Zero
Ok this calls for a change in tactic
[Me]: One?
Note to self: stab brain first chance you get. This is NOT a tactic.
[Girl]: (amused) Zero
[Me]: nine twelfths!
Hah! Now she’s cornered. She knows this can go on for hours, maybe even days!
[Girl]: (smiling) Alright, I’ll go out with you. I was just kidding anyways. So what day?

This was an unexpected turn of events. I didn’t realize I would have to actually go out with her. I was just enjoying myself, negotiating and everything. This was when panic set in. I realized I had to say something fast.

[Me]: You need to build more Overlords!

And then I ran from there. As I always say, with us thin people, the panic button is closer to the surface.