You were the hot blonde at Pesos on Friday night. I was the guy who was talking to you about the opera and Greenpeace. We seemed to have developed quite a rapport. Then I said, “Why dont you give my your digits, so we can go make some midgets?” and your whole attitude changed, like you were bipolar or something. I racked my brain about this, and I think it was just a misunderstanding. You see, I like colorful language. By “digits,” I meant, can I have your phone number, and by “make some midgets,” I meant, lets have sex, because, you know, sex is one way of making kids. Kids = Midgets. Thats all I meant by it. Perhaps I should have just said, “Ive enjoyed talking to you the past 10 minutes, would you like to do it sometime?” But that lacks panache. Im worried that you interpreted what I said too literally and thought that by “give me some digits” I wanted you to give me fingers and toes because I am actually making a midget. You know, like Frankenstein. I dont do stuff like that anymore. Midgets are just too unruly. Please give me another chance. Would you like to meet for coffee sometime? Or sex? Just me, no midgets.