Just end it. For the love of all that is holy, end it.
So. Since my last date was an incredibly stuffy law professor with no sense of humor, tonight I'm going out with a personal trainer. He's way buff, has several tattoos, and told me I reminded him of Audrey Hepburn while putting me through a set of brutal squats in the gym. Yes, women still go for lines like that. Or the buff thing. Either way. Worse thing that can happen is he wraps me in duct tape and dumps me in the Hudson. But that will still be more fun than the last guy.
Now. I've just got time to read back a few pages and see what y'all have been doing in here this last couple of days.