"And what do you do for a living?"  I asked.
It was our first date and I was completely lost. I was
rigorously following my  "how to score on the first date and
achieve instant upper hand in following upcoming
relationship" rules and was now scraping the bottom, but he
stood still. Never seen anyone so smug.

"I'm the 'you're not good enough' guy." He said.
"The what?!?" I asked.
"I head a non profitable international organization
responsible for recording, distributing
and subliminally planting deranged alter-egos, furious inner
voices and other miscellaneous obsessions."
"Are you serious?"
He gave a polite nod.

He twitched slightly when he felt my fork stuck in his palm.
He was obviously used to that.
"Sorry about that, couldn't help myself. But why do you
people do that?"
"I don't know." He said. "We always have. It's part of what
makes the world go round. We are like the tooth fairy. Never
heard anyone complain about the tooth fairy..." a hint of
doubt showed in his perfect eyes.
"It's a very hard job, really. We are hardly keeping up with
the flow. Last month we were so behind schedule we just sent
"you suck" to everyone in Canada."

I looked at him with disbelief, trying to measure out if
this guy was for real. But there was something about him.
Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. He was just the
sort of guy who, when telling you you're not good enough,
will make you believe him.

Right then, a plan was starting to form in my devious little
mind. I knew exactly how to get him into bed. "So, tell me,"
I asked, with the most sincere and caring voice I could
produce,  "how are business? Going well I hope."

He hesitated, and then said: "well, it's ok, I guess. Not
like in the middle ages. Those were the days. So much shame,
so much guilt. And we used to get large donations from the
church, more than enough to get us by." I tried saying
something, but he continued, his eyes changing a bit,  "not
getting any easier on the verge of the 21st century though,
self-empowerment classes, woman's lib', everyone has a place
in society and all that shit. We used to get enough money to
keep on working from the tobacco and liquor companies, but
now with the new laws and taxation and stuff, they can
hardly squeeze enough to cover our expenses." Seeing the
look on his face, I though I might have let it go to far,
but he was now unstoppable. "And the worse thing is, there's
a new guy on the sexual orientation department with all
those new ideas about the internet and going on-line.  I
think he's after my job."


"And I don't know..."
"Yes?"
"Sometimes I think..."
"Yes?"
"When push comes to shove..."
"Yes?"
"Maybe I'm just..."
"Go on..."
"Ehh... Not good enough," he said with the cutest puppy
eyes.
I held his hand and said calmly, "there, there. Don't you
worry your pretty little head about stuff like that. You are
good enough for me, and that's the important thing."
He looked at me with a shy smile as I put my hand on his
thigh.
"Wanna go up to my place for some coffee?" I asked in a
manly reassuring voice.
" 'kay." He said, smiling.