Lunch is lunch, amourous passions are a hell of a lot different.Â
A lunch ‘date’ opens the door for a friendship; sleeping with a lady soon (eventually) slams the door shut.
In this neck of the woods, words are misinterpreted in the area. The aura of an impending ‘date’ here, innocuous lunch with a guaranteed daytime escape/exit, too powerfully elucidates intentions of a deeper intentions.
So, my ‘lady-friend-seeking’Â Â endeavors suffer mightily and my batting average has long tanked me to less than A-ball.Â
This is the price for simultaneously being single and getting old.
Welcome to the American midwest.
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