The Man 2 Dialogs: Dating Explained in 3 Acts s
Dark. Spot lights fade up on MAN 1 and WOMAN
1. They are in their traditional spots from
WOMAN 1 has a small bouquet of flowers in front of her. MAN 1 looks at the dark spot usually occupied by MAN 2. He looks back at the audience and sighs. WOMAN 1 looks at the black spot usually occupied by MAN 2. She looks back at the audience and sighs. Both look at their watch. Both look simultaneously at the dark spot usually occupied by MAN 2. Their eyes meet. They both look away in embarrassed shock. They both look back and stare at each other for a moment.
WOMAN 1 Me too.
MAN 1 Oh, are you waiting for...
WOMAN 1 Yeah. You too, huh?
MAN 1 Yeah. Me too.
WOMAN 1 He's a bit late.
MAN 1 He's usually not late.
WOMAN 1 A man who's on time. You don't find that quality in your gender very often.
MAN 1 It's not exactly a common trait in women either. You just don't hear us complaining about it.
WOMAN 1 We have more to do to get ready. You think I can just roll out of bed looking this good?
MAN 1 Yes. You've got that natural Ingrid Bergman look, there's a silver screen air about you, a look that --
WOMAN 1 -- Oh shut up. Don't give me that. I talk to him as much as you talk to him. I know his tricks.
MAN 1 Well, anyway, you women should obsess a bit less on how you dress.
WOMAN 1 I have to obsess. You try walking in my shoes for a day, literally. You put on a top and a pair of shorts, you have to worry if they clash. I have worry if they clash and if some guy on public transit is going to get turned on by what I'm wearing and follow me for the rest of the day.
MAN 1 and WOMAN 1 look away and stare at the audience. There's silence. MAN 1 pulls out a book and starts reading. WOMAN 1 grows bored and begins to resent MAN 1 ignoring her.
WOMAN 1 You just going to read that until he comes?
MAN 1 Sure. As a woman, you might be accustomed to waiting for a man by planning how you're going to fume for the rest of the night, but I had a girlfriend who was frequently 30 minutes late. I learned to start carrying around a book so I could read that while waiting.
WOMAN 1 Not a bad idea.
MAN 1 Yeah. At first I tried tricks like telling her a concert started at 7:30 when it started at 8. But infrequently she would actually arrive at the appointed time and then I appeared half an hour late. The consequences of me making her cool her heels for half an hour were so severe I eventually accepted simply waiting half an hour with a good book was all around better for our shared happiness.
WOMAN 1 How is that shared happiness going?
MAN 1 She dumped me.
WOMAN 1 Why?
MAN 1 We moved in together.
WOMAN 1 That's always the beginning of the end.
MAN 1 It was something of a learning experience. Taught me what married life is like.
WOMAN 1 And what did you learn about married life?
WOMAN 1 Yes, when we're younger we have dolls and when we're older we have our husbands.
MAN 1 I can't count the number of times I was ready to head out in the morning to work and she would bar the door and scream "I certainly hope you're NOT going to work dressed like that?" What business is it of hers how I dress at work?
WOMAN 1 Because it reflects poorly on her. How can she possibly meet your female coworkers at the company Christmas party and keep her head up knowing she lets you leave the house wearing yellow and khaki? So did you learn anything else?
MAN 1 Yes. There's no such thing as relationship karma with a woman.
WOMAN 1 What do you mean?
Stage lights go dark and then spot light an area of the stage to the right of the bar.
To the right there is a stand with a paper grocery bag on it. WOMAN 2 removes an item from the bag and then checks something off a list. MAN 1 stands on the other side of the table reading a newspaper.
WOMAN 2 Thank you for doing the grocery shopping, sugar kisses.
MAN 1 No problem, muffin feet.
WOMAN 2 [removes another item, makes check on list] And thank you for proof reading my master's thesis, apple sweets.
MAN 1 I was only happy to do it, bunny boots. You really opened my eyes to how 1,200 years of cyclical crop failure has contributed to the socio-political make-up of low German culture.
WOMAN 2 [removes another item, makes check on list] You know that was so thoughtful of you today to drive all the way downtown and bring me my lunch, huggy bear.
MAN 1 I didn't want you to go without lunch, my lil' cherry bomb!
WOMAN 2 [removes another item, makes check on list] And, binkie kisses, that love poem you wrote and tucked into the lunch sack, that was so sweet.
MAN 1 [MAN 1 looks up from newspaper, tries to recall the words to the poem, and then recites it] RAM is red / ROM is blue / Your beautiful face / Makes my heart race / Faster than a Pentium III C-P-U
WOMAN 2 [removes another item, makes check on list] You are such a creative boo boo buns!
MAN 1 You inspire me, my blueberry shake of passion.
WOMAN 2 [removes another item, makes check on list] And thanks again for donating my mother one of your kidneys. You are such a pinchy bums!
MAN 1 For the woman that gave birth to you, I could refuse her nothing, my wiggle winks.
The woman looks in the bag. She up ends it to verify the bag has been emptied of groceries. She looks at her list. She looks at the groceries on the table. She looks back in the bag.
WOMAN 2 Umm... tinkle toes?
MAN 1 Yes, butter lips?
WOMAN 2 Where are the peas?
MAN 1 What peas?
WOMAN 2 This list I gave you. Right after "pads, heavy flow" I had "peas, 1 can". Where is the can of peas?
MAN 1 It's not there?
WOMAN 2 No.
MAN 1 I must have forgot.
WOMAN 2 [pushes grocery products onto the floor, enraged] YOU ARE BELIEVABLE AT TIMES! A PERSON MAY AS WELL BE TALKING TO THE WALLS WITH YOU. YOU DON'T LISTEN DO YOU? AND YOU NEVER WILL! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU. YOU'RE THE WORST ASSHOLE I'VE EVER DATED. SOMETIMES I THINK I CAN'T BE IN THIS RELATIONSHIP.
Stage lights go dark and then spot lights come back on WOMAN 1 and MAN 1 in their traditional seats at the bar.
MAN 1 It would be nice if there was some stored up relationship karma. Some small degree of mercy you could bank for those times you're not 100% perfect. I mean it was just a can of peas!
WOMAN 1 It's not just about a can of peas with a woman. Don't you understand? Today you forget a can of peas, tomorrow you might forget the baby and bassinet on the hood of your car as you drive off. It's never just anything.
MAN 1 Who said anything about a baby? We never even planned on having children.
WOMAN 1 Doesn't matter. Mistakes happen. Underneath it all, a woman who's sleeping with you will always have in the back of her mind a sort of uneasy feeling about what kind of father you'll make. Are you the type who'll stick around and help raise the child? Are you the type who will run off to Vancouver, change your name, and destroy your dental records? Are you a cheap bastard she'll have to battle 18 years for child support.
MAN 1 That's entirely irrational.
WOMAN 1 Yeah, so?
MAN 1 So, I really hated that about my girlfriend. I hated how irrational things would freak her out. I'd be like "what's wrong, honey?" and she'd tell me she was stressing over some minor thing like the couch doesn't match the drapes and her mother is coming over in two days. I'd think about it and then give her 4 logical reasons why her fears were unfounded, irrational, and everything would be alright. I then expected her turmoil, in the words of Douglas Adams, to vanish in a puff of logic. But it never did. Instead, she'd start freaking out at me, calling me an insensitive jerk. Insensitive? Like I'm only trying to help!
WOMAN 1 My boyfriends do that to me too. I hate that. Why can't a man just say "Wow, that sucks" and give me a hug. Don't try to solve it. Women are not stupid. I know rationally why I shouldn't freak out. But I can't stop freaking out. That's why it sucks, Einstein. Don't remind me how irrational I am. I already know. I can see the irrationality of my anxiety. You telling me my fears are ungrounded only makes me feel worse.
MAN 1 Yeah, I suppose, but my work makes me tackle problems logically. It's hard to turn off at the end of the day.
Bit of silence. WOMAN 1 calms down a bit.
WOMAN 1 What do you do for a living?
MAN 1 I'm a developer.
WOMAN 1 Developers are kind of sexy. What sort of land do you develop? Residential or commercial properties?
MAN 1 Not that kind of developer. I'm a software developer.
WOMAN 1 Oh, I see. [Looks from side to side to see if maybe there isn't someone more interesting she should be talking to at the moment]
MAN 1 I get that a lot.
WOMAN 1 It's not that there's anything wrong with software development, per se. I just had a bad experience with the type.
MAN 1 That's too bad.
WOMAN 1 Oh well, at least it opened my eyes. I work in advertising which means I use Mac. I was vaguely familiar with Steve Jobs as some sort of computer guy archetype. Computer people seemed then dark, mysterious, and sexy like Jobs. How quickly I learned.
MAN 1 You met a Unix developer?
WOMAN 1 I met Michael. He was 28, he had already sold two software companies for several million dollars before I met him, and he was starting a third company. Oh yeah, he was a fair kisser.
MAN 1 It could be worse.
WOMAN 1 It got worse. For all his millions he was the biggest cheapskate I ever met. He would do things like invite me over for dinner and serve two-day-old microwaved pizza he brought home from the office after an all nighter.
MAN 1 If that's not a reason to dump a millionaire, I don't see what is. A man should be a walking checkbook, shouldn't he?
WOMAN 1 Look, harkening back to your can of peas incident, it was just a lot of little cheap things he did to drive me off. At some point, a woman realizes the guy doesn't need a life partner. He needs a mother. And it's not like I didn't try to work with what I had. But eventually I had to admit defeat. I took Michael grocery shopping one day. I wanted to teach him food came in something other than a square cardboard box with coupons for a free 2-liter Pepsi stapled on top.
MAN 1 It doesn't?
WOMAN 1 No.
Stage lights go dark and then an area of the stage to the left of the bar is spot lighted.
There is a stand with some vegetables on top. Vegetables include celery, green peppers, and white mushrooms. WOMAN 1 and MICHAEL are looking at the vegetables. MICHAEL is holding a plastic shopping basket
MICHAEL [picks up a celery bunch] Vegetables, I've read about these.
WOMAN 1 Yes, we're going to make shishkabob. It's fun and easy to make.
MICHAEL What's in it?
WOMAN 1 Meat, mushrooms, green peppers, tomatoes.
MICHAEL Like pizza.
WOMAN 1 [snaps] Not pizza. You put it on a skewer and then barbeque it.
MICHAEL Meat on a stick. Like a corn dog. Nature's most perfect food.
WOMAN 1 Correction, meat and vegetables on a stick.
MICHAEL What sort of batter?
WOMAN 1 There's no batter. It's pointless to eat vegetables if you're going to deep fry them.
MICHAEL I guess I can pick the vegetables off.
Spot light comes on MAN 1
MAN 1 Strike one!
Spot light on MAN 1 goes dark
WOMAN 1 I'm going to pick out a couple green peppers. You get some mushrooms.
WOMAN 1 goes to the other side of the stand, pulls out a plastic bag, starts looking for the perfect green pepper. WOMAN 1 notices MICHAEL picks out a single white mushroom, holds it up to the light as if he's looking for a flaw in a diamond, and then places the single mushroom in the basket. He repeats this several times. WOMAN 1 watches with increasing horror and frustration. She eventually puts her green pepper down and walks to the other side. She takes the basket from MICHAEL, dumps the mushrooms back onto the pile, opens her plastic bag, shoves a handful of mushrooms in, spins the bag closed and seals it with a green wire twist tie. She places the bag into MICHAEL's basket. MICHAEL removes the bag and holds it up, looking at it like a boy looking at a couple goldfish just bought from the pet store.
MICHAEL You know I noticed there are no price tags on these mushrooms or the bag.
WOMAN 1 They weigh the bag at the cash.
MICHAEL Weigh it? One damn minute.
MICHAEL removes the twist tie, throws it behind his back, and squeezes all the air out of the bag. He then ties it shut.
MICHAEL If they're weighing this, the hell I'm paying for this twist tie and all this air.
Spot light comes on MAN 1
MAN 1 Strike two!
WOMAN 1 [looks at MAN 1] I didn't wait around for strike three. I got out of that grocery store and his life.
Lights fade and come back up on WOMAN 1 and MAN 1 in their traditional seats. The MAN 2 space between them is still dark.
MAN 1 Hey, who are the flowers for?
WOMAN 1 No one.
MAN 1 Flowers are always for someone. They're not for him, are they? [Motions to MAN 2's empty seat]
WOMAN 1 No, they're not for him.
MAN 1 You love him.
WOMAN 1 Sorry?
MAN 1 You love him. [Motions to MAN 2's empty seat]
WOMAN 1 Is that a question?
MAN 1 A statement of the obvious phrased as a question.
WOMAN 1 You don't know me nearly well enough to be making statements like that.
MAN 1 I hit a sore spot?
WOMAN 1 Not really, but it's true. I don't love him. [gets slightly annoyed] Like what do you know about me really?
MAN 1 Not much. But he has his charms. It's not unbelievable a smart, feeling woman would be charmed by him.
WOMAN 1 Granted. Still that proves nothing.
MAN 1 Hence the questioning tone in my voice. I might be 90% sure but I'll leave room for doubt. Or more accurately, I'll leave room to be convinced by the arguments you use to convince yourself you're not in love with him.
WOMAN 1 I don't need to convince myself of anything. I'm not in love with him. It's just a simple fact.
MAN 1 Yeah. Sure. So then who are the flowers for?
MAN 1 Isn't that the man's job?
WOMAN 1 It should be, yes, but I'm tired of waiting around for a man to do the job or waiting for Mother's Day.
MAN 1 What does Mother's Day have to do with it?
WOMAN 1 Because I can buy flowers for myself but the sales person will think I'm buying them for my mother.
MAN 1 I don't see the problem with walking into a flower shop and buying flowers for yourself.
WOMAN 1 It's about shame. It's akin to the unexpressed shame a man feels when he buys a skin magazine. It's like admitting to the register jockey "I will never have this in my life for real."
MAN 1 I never realized.
WOMAN 1 It's true. But there's hope. I read studies that showed an increasing number of single women are not waiting around for a man to do the deed. They are buying themselves flowers in record numbers. Higher the woman's education, more likely she is to buy them for herself. It seems the ad wizards are beginning to wake up to an untapped and slightly bitter demographic: single women, 25-32, with good paying jobs, one bedroom condos, and no worthwhile male prospects to be found this side of the Earth's curvature. These marketers probably have an insulting name for them like "Empty Womb Hold Outs" (EW-HOs?). To address this growing undercurrent, flower shops were sprouting up all over the place with names like "Just for You" and "F.E.M." (Flowers Expressly for Me) to remove the stigma of defeat.
MAN 1 [pause] So you don't love him?
WOMAN 1 Look, we're both waiting for him and I hardly know you, so can we talk about safe, getting-to-know you things?
MAN 1 Sure.
WOMAN 1 [pauses a long while trying to figure out what to talk about and then finally stumbles on...] So what kind of company do you work for?
MAN 1 I work for a bank.
WOMAN 1 It's as good a job as any these days.
MAN 1 I know. I was pretty lucky to get it too, given I had some dot.com experience on my resume.
WOMAN 1 You were one of those guys.
MAN 1 Yep. Sometimes I think if you're going to apply to a bank or financial company you should remove any dot.com experience you have from your resume. It's better to tell them you had a two year break in employment because you were strung out on heroin than to tell them you worked for a dot.com.
WOMAN 1 What did you do for the dot.com?
MAN 1 Like most of my coworkers, I mostly spent my time planning a ski vacation. Which is probably the reason banks are so reticent to hire former dot.com'ers. When I had actual work to do, it was paint monkey stuff. I've never seen such an overstaffed company. They went from three employees to three hundred in three months. Now they are down to two employees. I think only one of the guys is an actual employee. The other one is appointed by the bankruptcy court. He spends his days going over receipts and asking the other guy "you spent $25,000 on something called a J45. Where is it and is it in saleable condition?"
WOMAN 1 [chuckles]
MAN 1 This company was right messed up. They raised $30 million in an IPO and blew half of it on a single party in Vegas.
WOMAN 1 That's some party!
MAN 1 It was incredible. They flew all the employees there, loads of journalists, even the CEO of their main competition. They rented out rooms for everyone for the weekend. And to top it all off, they had The Who and Sarah McLachlan play at the bash.
WOMAN 1 What did they do with the other $15 mil?
MAN 1 They spent $2 million on a super bowl ad that only ran once. It's like everyone is trying to redo Apple's 1984 commercial. The rest they spent on some pretty nice water-front offices and a European pastry chef for the executive dining room. Almost any lame brain thing they threw money at was always justified as "we need this in the current economy to attract and retain good employees".
WOMAN 1 I've always been under the impression you attract good employees because you have a good product and a work environment that presents interesting challenges. Good workers create their own fun. You attract slackers if you throw crap at them.
MAN 1 It was a crazy time. These dot.coms were so desperate for people it seemed they would give a 50K a year job to anyone who at least knew a mouse wasn't something you roasted over an oil drum full of burning tires.
WOMAN 1 What did this company do?
MAN 1 You're going to laugh when I tell you. I did when they told me. But then they offered me a 95K a year job and 30,000 stock options and I shut up my god damn trap.
WOMAN 1 I promise I will laugh if appropriate.
MAN 1 The company was called JustDayOlds.com. They were basically a B2C and B2B site that brokered merchants' day old inventory.
WOMAN 1 What sort of day old merchandise?
MAN 1 Anything really. Donuts, muffins, bread, deli counter items, newspapers, sushi.
WOMAN 1 Someone gave them $30 million for that idea? What was their business plan? Their revenue generation model?
MAN 1 [replies initially with a long, hearty laugh] Given they blew all their money on parties, I'd say none, beyond ignorantly assuming because they had dot com after their name there would always be someone ready with another 30 million to fund their ego trip. The only time they acted like they ever gave any thought to actual reality was when they closed up shop and posted on their web site a long, open letter to their customers and shareholders apologizing for JustDayOlds.com closure. Their explanation was "The market for such a service has not developed as quickly as expected". Hello! The market never existed in the first place. Our monthly payroll was ten times higher than our gross sales for the year.
MAN 1 lets out a long sigh
MAN 1 Oh well, who could blame them? I mean the whole idea of the dot.com was to put the traditional brick-and-mortar stores out of business.
WOMAN 1 Ah, then you achieve profitability?
MAN 1 [reaches out and pretends like he's strangling someone] You have to get off this whole profitability kick. Profit never, ever figured into the dynamics of the New Economy.
WOMAN 1 Then what's the point of going into business? Or why throw $30 million dollars at a venture?
MAN 1 It was all about control of society's infrastructure. No one makes money directly from infrastructure. That's why we pretty much let the government build our roads, dams, sewers, libraries, air traffic control systems, etc. These things require massive capital investments and if you tried to run a nation-wide highway system for profit, you'd not see a return on your five hundred billion dollar investment for two hundred years.
WOMAN 1 So why throw so much money at Internet infrastructure?
MAN 1 Because with the net, you don't have to build anything. You just have to sign deals, make alliances, generate ideas, get them to work or sort of work online, and then patent them.
WOMAN 1 So you build this non-existent infrastructure. What good is it?
MAN 1 Lets imagine you're a trucking company and you could build a national highway system for fifty million bucks. Since you own the highway, you can control when other trucking firms use the roads. So you let your trucks make deliveries during off peak times and limit the competition to morning and afternoon rush hours. Your trucks make deliveries on time and all the competitors are hung up in traffic and late. Soon, you don't have any competitors.
WOMAN 1 Spooky.
MAN 1 It gets even spookier if you consider things like online book stores. If you own amazon.com and you put the brick-and-mortar stores out of business, you control what society reads. The New Economy really begged the question "how much are you willing to pay to play God?"
WOMAN 1 You talk like you were somehow above it, but you cashed their checks.
MAN 1 A man has to eat. Like you've ever put ethics before eating?
WOMAN 1 It just so happens I quit a job over ethics.
MAN 1 What did you say you did again?
WOMAN 1 Advertising.
MAN 1 Oh well, you're a fine one to lecture me about ethics.
WOMAN 1 Hear me out. One of my first jobs was working for an advertising company that got a contract for a new brand of cigarettes called "Fireworks".
MAN 1 Never heard of it.
WOMAN 1 Good, because it was targeted at women aged 18 to 24. After children, it's the only demographic that offers an expanding market to tobacco growers. The company wanted to position Fireworks with this sort of riot grrrl/in-your-face campaign. The gimmick was to sell the smokes in a cylindrical package that was supposed to look like a roman candle but looked more like a penis.
MAN 1 Odd, that.
WOMAN 1 It gets worse. The bus shelter campaign featured a picture of woman about to deep throat the carton. The ad copy read "Fireworks: It's like having a big, purple bang in your mouth!"
MAN 1 And that's why you quit?
WOMAN 1 That's why I almost quit. I quit when they wanted me track down all the ad space in bus shelters near high schools. [pause] So what do you like to do for fun?
WOMAN 1 Stalin Attack?
MAN 1 It's the latest 3D shoot-em up. Totally wicked. 14 different guns, shoot down U2 pilots, snatch Czech playwrights off the street and wire their nipples to car batteries --
WOMAN 1 Enough! What is it with you keyboard jockeys and your need to simulate mass murder?
MAN 1 It's not murder. It's just a way to work out pent-up aggression.
WOMAN 1 That's just an excuse
MAN 1 "That's just an excuse." That sounds a lot like "it's all in your head".
WOMAN 1 Huh?
MAN 1 You know PMS. By saying that you're dismissing me exactly in a manner you wouldn't want a guy to dismiss you.
WOMAN 1 Come again?
MAN 1 [stands and begins to pace around] When it was that time of the month, guys used to claim it was all in your head. Women eventually convinced us that there was something more going on, a complex interaction of brain chemicals and body hormones. Stuff we males couldn't possibly comprehend but should try to understand anyway, even if that meant occasionally letting you kill us.
WOMAN 1 Great. You've taken high school biology and read The Burning Bed.
MAN 1 If you had taken some biology instead of pursuing a little advertising degree, you would know that men have their own unique hormonal chemistry. It's called testosterone.
WOMAN 1 Heard of it.
MAN 1 Great. [grows increasingly aggravated] Let's not forget a little thing called "Survival of the fittest". It should come as no surprise the male of the species needs to occasionally strangle something. You're looking at the product of thousands of years of evolution. I'm a descendant of only the most ferocious alpha males who lived long enough to pass on their genetic code. [Stands with his hands on his hips, stomach thrust outward, shirt untucked, looking entirely unlike someone worthy of the title "alpha male"]
WOMAN 1 You know I really hate that.
MAN 1 [takes seat] What? An explanation of human behavior based on ethnology?
MAN 1 Everything we use -- computers, VCRs, radios -- they're all products of science and engineering. So yeah, I feel like I'm contributing to society. I ain't a YODA.
WOMAN 1 YODA?
MAN 1 [says each letter individually] Y-O-D-A. It stands for Young Opinionated but Directionless Artsie.
WOMAN 1 Gosh, you make it sound like being an Artsie is a bad thing. When you go home, what do you watch on TV?
MAN 1 I dunno. You know. PBS. Mystery Science Theater 3000. Lots of movies.
WOMAN 1 And who do you think writes those movies? Engineers?
MAN 1 No. But who gives you the tools? Who makes your movie cameras and iMacs? You artsies would be nothing without us technical people!
WOMAN 1 You still don't get it. Technical people are in the service of the artistic community. Not the other way around.
MAN 1 Meaning?
WOMAN 1 If tomorrow a nuke war fried our TVs, the survivors would go back to the hillsides to watch actors in stone masks. Humans make art, no matter how primitive the tools.
MAN 1 Yeah, but what would you rather do... sit on some mushy hill side and watch Oedipus Tech or sit in a dry movie theater and watch a flick?
WOMAN 1 [turns nose up] I prefer live drama.
MAN 1 And how many plays have you seen in the last year?
WOMAN 1 Ummm... none.
MAN 1 And how many first-run movies have you seen in the last couple months?
WOMAN 1 Six.
MAN 1 Wow. That many. I love movies.
WOMAN 1 So do I. [Silence, WOMAN 1 waits for MAN 1 to get a clue] It's just so hard at times to find someone to go to the movies with. [Silence, WOMAN 1 waits for MAN 1 to get a clue] I just hating going alone. You know? [Silence, WOMAN 1 waits for MAN 1 to get a clue] So many good movies at the theater these days. [Silence, WOMAN 1 waits for MAN 1 to get a clue]
MAN 1 Errr, did you want to go see a movie some time?
WOMAN 1 Sure.
Lights fade and come back up on WOMAN 1 and MAN 1. MAN 1 is in MAN 2's traditional spot.
MAN 1 is rubbing WOMAN 1's arm. They're talking, laughing, and generally carrying on. Clearly their movie date was a success and they've gotten to know each other better.
Spot light suddenly comes up on MAN 2. MAN 2 is standing behind WOMAN 1 and MAN 1
MAN 2 has a look of shock on his face. He's stunned that not only is MAN 1 in his spot, but MAN 1 and WOMAN 1 have met and are on highly personal terms. WOMAN 1 and MAN 1 soon detect MAN 2's presence. They look back with equal horror. Busted!
Lights go out.
The Man 2 Dialogs: Dating Explained in 3 Acts s
By Karl Mamer
If you found this site via Google using the search term "I want to fuck Britney Spears", please note this site will provide you no help whatsoever finding a way to fuck Britney Spears or even finding girls who look like Britney Spears and are willing to fuck you. All I can offer you is the suggestion that you wash more often.