Living for this shit

I am having an online date blogger’s wet dream right now. There is an online date in progress taking place two tables away from me in a Washington, DC coffee shop quiet enough that I can track the progress of this date.

I hope that the woman’s recent hip surgery and use of cane does not prevent them from having sexual relations in the very near future. Their body language at first made me skeptical that such a thing could happen for these two. She began the date with a conversationally dominant focus on her hip replacement surgery, her subsequent physical therapy and her pilates class. The poor guy had trouble contributing to the airwaves and I felt his disinterest in his crossed arms. Only brief mention was made of his career in the secret service. I guess she is taking the secret portion to heart.

In the last 10 minutes they’ve been laughing their heads off on this Monday afternoon, and even though she is back on the topic of her cortisone shots, he now has his chin in his hands and is gazing into her eyes.

Did she just say “hip-a-thon”?

To answer your most obvious query, yes they are middle aged as they are not discussing what can go right with coolness, but rather what can go wrong with the laterally projecting prominence of the pelvis or pelvic region from the waist to the thigh.

I feel bad for them that they are about to unknowingly hit the big time on the Online Dater’s Club, reaching a readership that has recently skyrocketed into daily double digits, but given their advanced age, they may only vaguely know what a blog is.

Since we are benefiting from their existence, lets all hold a silent god or god-free prayer (whatever floats your boat) that these two shall find love right in front of them with the Internet to thank.