Rachel: Have you ever been slapped in the back of the knees with a hockey stick?

Calder: No, but the hamstrings, calves, and ass, yes.

Rachel: Did the ass slap hurt? I would think it would actually feel more kinky than painful. If I was slapped by the blade of a hockey stick, I would probably welcome another one < - - too much?

Calder: LOL. Never too much. I appreciate your honesty. Question, did you have to look up the term blade?

Rachel: Are you stalking my internet search history? If so, please ignore the searches on there for resale value of Beanie Babies.

Calder: I heard the tie-dye rooster is going for a thousand dollars.

Rachel: Seriously???

Calder: No.

Rachel: You bastard! The date is off!

Calder: No it’s not, there’s no way you can get out of it now. You’ve committed, there’s no turning back.

Rachel: Damn it. You’re right, there’s no possible way I could stand you up . . .

Calder: Don’t even think about it. You already gave me your address. If I have to, I will camp out on your lawn until you come out for our date.

Rachel: Challenge accepted.

Rachel: Do you eat breakfast every morning? Are you one of those guys who eats half a dozen eggs, downs a rainbow sherbet flavored protein smoothie, and grabs a Power Bar on the way out to your gym session?

Calder: If I said you were almost one hundred percent accurate with that assessment, would you cancel our date on Friday?

Rachel: Yes.

Calder: Then nope, don’t eat breakfast every day, but when I do, it’s about a donut for each finger. I dangle them like rings and nibble away at them in the morning, just to feel whimsical.

Rachel: That’s my kind of man.

Calder: Have you ever gone skydiving?

Rachel: No, have you?

Calder: No, but I think we might on our date.

Rachel: You’re joking right? You’re drunk right now and have lost your damn mind. Tell me you’ve lost it, that you are truly certifiable at this moment right now.

Calder: Sober as sober can be.

Rachel: The date is REALLY off now.

Calder: I thought you had some adventure in you, maybe I read you wrong.

Rachel: Oh don’t get me wrong, there is adventure in me, but I like to keep it to a minimum. Jumping out of a plane with a guy I met outside a place where humans deposit their excrement doesn’t scream “best idea.”

Calder: Jumping out of planes with strangers is America’s new favorite pastime.

Rachel: Lies! America’s new favorite pastime is taking pictures of their food and letting it get cold until they get the exact shot they want. Cold fries is America’s favorite pastime, not plane jumping with bitch-slapping fairy men. Nice try, Weiss.

Calder: So I’m assuming that’s a no to the skydiving.

Rachel: That’s a hard no.

Rachel: Are you taking me to one of those wine-and-paint places? You know, where you get drunk and accidentally paint a nude-colored, phallic-shaped tree rather than what the instructor is teaching you to paint?

Calder: I take it you’ve been to one of those places before?

Rachel: I have two penis trees hanging above my fireplace. I named them Rueben and Jerry.

Calder: Are they . . . lovers?

Rachel: Who? Rueben and Jerry? Are you insane? Of course they’re not lovers, they’re brothers. God, what is wrong with you? Is that what you’re into, incestual dick paintings?

Calder: I can’t believe I gave myself away and you figured it out. God, I love some good brother dick-on-dick action . . .

Rachel: Okay, our date is REALLY, TRULY off now.

Calder: That’s what you keep saying, and yet you continue to talk to me.

Rachel: Consider it a sick fascination.

Calder: Thoughts on laser tag?

Rachel: Thoughts on spending Friday night alone?

Calder: Noted.

Rachel: How many times have you searched “Fun dates in Philly” on the internet this week?

Calder: About seven.

Rachel: Impressive, I would have guessed twice that amount.

Calder: I rounded down.

Rachel: How far did you round down?

Calder: Little less than half.

Rachel: That sounds about right. Are you having a hard time coming up with something?

Calder: The hardest. There aren’t many places that seem suitable for your ball gown-wearing self, who needs to be home by nine-thirty or else you turn into a ragged chambermaid.

Rachel: Don’t forget pumpkin carriage parking, it’s important that’s added into the mix.

Calder: Believe me, I’ve called two places already asking if they valet pumpkins.

Rachel: Any luck?

Calder: No, but I have received a few numbers for psychologists.

Rachel: Can you pass those along? From the sound of it, I might need to talk to someone after this date. . .

Calder: As a parting gift Friday night, I will hand you a laminated card with their numbers.

Rachel: A man who laminates, now we’re talking.

Calder: Hang up the ball gown and pull out your casual attire. I have our date planned and it doesn’t require you to drown yourself in tulle.

Rachel: What about pearls?

Calder: No.

Rachel: Sweater set?

Calder: I would prefer something not so . . . stuck up.

Rachel: Let me guess, you’re hoping for something along the lines of skinny jeans, tight shirt, heels, and a form-fitting leather jacket?

Calder: Now you’re talking.

Rachel: Too bad for you I’m ironing my peasant dress as we speak in preparation for Friday. And if you’re lucky, I might just don my bonnet.

Calder: Okay, I think it’s my turn to cancel the date.

Rachel: DON’T YOU DARE!

Calder: I don’t know . . . a bonnet?

Rachel: They’re very fetching.

Calder: Yeah, I think I’m busy Friday night . . .

Rachel: (Rubs hands together) Are you ready for tonight?

Calder: I thought we cancelled.

Rachel: Please, if I can look past your fairy wings, you can look past my bonnet.

Calder: I guess that’s fair. But for the record, I’m going to be sans tiara and wings tonight. Wanda will be nowhere near this date.

Rachel: But how on Earth am I supposed to recognize you then?

Calder: I’ll be the guy in the navy-blue button up and dark jeans.

Rachel: Aw, you already picked out what you’re going to wear.

Calder: After our phone call wardrobe mishap, I figured I better have an outfit picked out ahead of time, with a few backup options, just in case. I don’t want to disappoint again.

Rachel: Smart man . . . oh shoot (snaps fingers) looks like my bonnet is still at the dry cleaners. What a shame.

Calder: Oh no, how can we possibly go on? < - - said with all the sarcasm I could possibly muster

Rachel: I can feel the disappointment from here. Alright, Wanda, I’ll see you tonight. Can’t wait. :)

Calder: Me neither.