You’re Not Like the Other Women I’ve Dated

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You know, I’m really enjoying spending time with you. I must say, you’re different than most women I’ve dated.

Oh, I mean that in a totally complimentary way, really. I’m not able to pinpoint exactly what it is yet, but there’s definitely something different about you. You’re not like all the other women I know, that’s for sure.

Maybe it’s your height. What are you, 5’9? That’s pretty tall, probably taller than most women I’ve dated. But I guess 5’9″” isn’t that tall. Maybe it’s not your height.

Maybe it’s your red hair. I guess I’ve never really dated anyone with red hair. Although…I did date a woman in college who had reddish hair — more like auburn — so I guess technically that doesn’t make you different than all the other women I’ve dated.

You’ve got a really great laugh. Most women I’ve dated either have no sense of humor, or they have totally annoying laughs, but yours is really infectious. Really. Outstanding laugh, and I’m not just saying that. That must be what makes you different than all the other women I’ve dated. But, you know, now that I think about it…I did date a pastry chef once who had a really great laugh. Not as great has her cheesecake, that’s for sure! But still, good laugh. So I suppose you’re not all that different in that respect.

Hmmm.

Wait a minute…I’ve got it! I know what makes you different than all of the other women I’ve dated: you’re not chained to the radiator in my basement.

How did I miss that? Here you are, very much not in my basement — not even chained to anything, in fact — just having dinner at this lovely restaurant, exercising your own free will. It’s so refreshing to see that once in a while, you know? All the other women I’ve dated were, at one time, chained to that damned radiator in my basement. It gets old after a while, hearing the same things over and over again — “”I’m hungry,”” “”Let me go,”” “”There are people looking for me right now, creep”” — you know, typical “”girl stuff.”” But I never hear those things out of you. Except, of course, for “”I’m hungry,”” which you said right before we ordered. How is your food, by the way?

What? Metaphorical? No, like real, actual chains.

Because that’s where the radiator is, silly. Is this wine a little too sweet? Be honest.

Hey, what’s gotten into you? I just paid you a huge compliment, telling you about how you’re not like any of the women I’ve ever dated before —

Why does it matter how I define “”dating””?

Oh, please, now you’re just starting to sound like everyone else. This is really disappointing. I mean, I thought I felt a real connection here. Not the kind of connection that binds you to a radiator, of course, but a real, emotional, non-radiator connection, one not even located in my basement. Frankly, I’m really surprised by your reaction. I thought there was a spark between us. Not the metal-on-metal spark you’d get if you tried to escape from my basement by rubbing your chains against the radiator, but a spark nonetheless.

So you’re just leaving? Just like that? Oh, right. No chains.

Well, it’s probably a good thing, anyway. It would have been tough to date someone who’s so different than the women I usually date. Although…now that I see you walking away, I can get a better look at your hair, and — you know what? Maybe it was the hair after all. I mean, it’s really red.

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