I slept like a rock might sleep, given from all of the evidence that rocks didn’t move around much on their own.  I was more sedentary than sedimentary, but…

The stuff of life occupied me a good part of the next day.  My bureaucramancy was in fine fettle.  Patience gets you a long way, as does having a good attitude.  If you can make the person on the other side laugh they’re more likely to go that extra step, let alone that extra mile.  Especially when you’re dealing with bureaucracy it is important to remember that each of those people along the path has a role to play.  Of course, some of those roles are to stymie you, especially when dealing with insurance agencies.  I don’t hold it against them…much.  OK, I rarely hold it against the individuals, just the policies that make it seem like they can’t spend any of the hard-won cash I’ve given them on, you know, my needs.

I got a rental car organized and left a note on the voicemails of my caretakers that I was doing fine and didn’t need their help today.  I went grocery shopping.

I also asked Sylvia out on a date.  It’s a lot easier to do when you only have to record it, and you have unlimited chances to repeat yourself and sound your best, even if the eighth take didn’t have the same obvious spontaneity.

I have never been sure of the precise combinations of words to make asking someone for a date sound reasonable, especially out of the blue. I can kind of break it down a little.  There’s the standard greeting, the identification of the person doing the asking, the sweetening (maybe softening) of the person being asked, usually in conjunction with their identification, then the event information, and then the plea.  Does the word “plea” sound too desperate?  Say, rather, the invitation, perhaps?

At any rate, broken down into so many modules (do my summers spent doing a little programming here and there come out that much in my speech?) it seems like there’s still a great deal of personalization that can be made.  After all, I could identify myself as “Count No-one” (of the No-one Trust, of course) and my sweetheart as “She of the Fangless Smile,” although I wouldn’t recommend either.  I could soften things with, “For you have my throat in your hands,” but again, that kind of sweet-talk is only going to work for a specific type of personality.  The event should show some kind of connection with things you’ve already discovered about your intended date, whether it be, “A consummation of our parents’ plans for grandchildren,” or simply, “two tickets to that thing you love.”  (Again, these examples are probably best never, ever used, but maybe if you smell right you can use that latter.)

I tried to wing it, first.  Give it that kind of off-handed, casual feel.  Failure of “ums.”  The “um” is not your cool, casual friend.  It’s a sign of nervousness or inability to choose, or worse, inability to leave silence alone.  Silence is a good thing.  Silence gets you in trouble a lot less than actually saying aloud those dumb things you were thinking.

Try number two was made while I was still verbally berating myself for try number one.  Try number three I almost missed completely as I hit the wrong button.  I wrote down the details on try number four so that I could say it clearly and managed to garble it while choking on my own spit.  Try number five was missed while I was still coughing and hacking.  Try number six sounded great, but then I pressed “re-record” again, out of habit at that point.  Try number seven sounded almost mechanical.  Try number eight was well-rehearsed, smooth, and acceptable.

Your mileage may vary.

I remembered she’d ordered something fairly spicy at the restaurant, so I wanted to take her to a place that had great spices, as well as other options in case that was an exception to her eating habits.  I was split as to whether or not to go out of my normal habitat.  Part of me said that if this developed any further, we’d be spending most of our time on my personal map, and part of me said to take every advantage I could, rather than having to feel like I was a fish out of water at the same time I was busy with the awkwardness of an actual date.

You can just take someone out for dinner, but it’s good if you have a follow-up plan, provided they don’t have some kind of curfew.  I’m sure there’s dating guides for vampires and the like that talk about that awkward early breakfast at the 24-hour diner, but I am just guessing because I don’t date vampires.  I am about to take a student out on a date, though, her yes answer pending, and that means being cognizant of the stresses of college, from being willing to take a no seriously during finals, to not getting in the way of homework.  Just because I didn’t get my degree didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of the particular cycles of school life.  (The low and high tides of homework, the seasons of needing advisor attention, the overall agriculture of it.  Maybe there’s a better metaphor, but it seemed to me like you were farming for a certain production of paper, or somesuch.)

My follow-up plan was, weather depending, a little bit more experimental.  I was offering to take a walk with her (no collars or leashes necessary) either amongst some botanical sights, or a more cynical tour of some of the local woo-woo scene.  I didn’t phrase it that way, of course.  I happened to enjoy looking in various new age stores and laughing at the merchandise the way jaded fashion gurus sit at the shows, sipping their presumably-coffee, judging mercilessly the designs and models who walk by.  (Don’t laugh too much, though – there are several magicians in fashion, just as there are several wizards who take the shops seriously.)

I didn’t say it was a great plan.  I could have taken her to something I knew I liked.  That way at least one person was having a good time.  That had its appeal, too, if I was feeling cynical.  It wasn’t the kind of message I meant to leave, though.  Maybe that was mumble number five.