Have We Met?

Have we met? Your face is familiar, and I never forget a face. Now it’ll bug me until I figure it out. Don’t you hate when that happens? I hate when that happens. When the thing you’re trying to grab is just out of reach? Did we ever go on a date? My friends are always setting me up on these lousy blind dates. Not that I’m saying you were a lousy date. But if I can’t even remember the date, well… Maybe the experience was so traumatic, I blocked it out. If that’s the case, maybe I should be backing away slowly, not engaging in conversation. On the other hand, you have this sexy Don Draper thing going on. Don Draper with a hint of Fred Flintstone… So I think I’d recall going out with you, no matter how awful it was. There was this guy once who spent the whole evening showing me pictures of his cats.  Cats for God sakes! Talk about awful. And I don’t know why, but he smelled like baked beans. Isn’t that strange? Now I can’t walk past a can of Bush’s without breaking out in a cold sweat. But as I was saying, I know I know you. Where have we met?


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