I’m Just Kidding by Gina Lovoi 2000 Yet another Saturday night completely date free. But I certainly wasn’t going to let that stop me. From, yet again, practicing a rich fantasy life...this time I’m out with the girl of my          dreams. Here she existed on this postcard, the back of her head and all, promoting “The Ride”, a        short film with a gender-bending theme. So while my friends ordered more pizza and another cider. I slowly pulled her out of my purse, propped her against the empty twenty ounce glass and     proclaimed that my date had arrived; I no longer wanted to hide her. And although I had only just met this handsome beauty who every femme in San Francisco     seemed to have a crush on. I knew I was in love despite this heavy competition and the fact that she only just broke up      with a woman whom she still considered a special someone. But thank the Lord for this dumbass who didn’t want to get back together with such a          prize. I’d take her in a heartbeat, proudly prop her up wherever I go, this passion I could not          disguise. Although I could only date the back of her head on a thick piece of cardstock, I had (not just in my head) met her at my gym and was beginning to hang around in hopes      of initiating meaningful small talk. I found out that she is a Taurus you see, A perfect match to an anal Virgo, that’s me! Everyone soon had to know that I stumbled upon someone who I’m getting all crushed out      on. Kind of like in junior high when I signed yearbooks with “Nick Rhodes is a babe” and “I          love Simon LeBon.” It began with some “Do you know Cooper’s?” or “She’s really nice” or “Yeah, I think she’s cute.” And after Kendall hurt my feelings by telling me that some foxy chicky will be damn happy       to know she’s sans girlfriend...it swiftly progressed into love and possible soulmate to boot. Of course I’m just kidding here, I hardly know her at all. And I certainly wouldn’t want to set myself up for a big tumble and fall. That’s right, it’s all in good fun. To carry around a postcard of her head and profess love the size of the sun. So out of fear that I’d cause a scare, sending her on the run. This disclaimer I insert in hopes of not frightening off the one I want to call hon. Hon, as in honey, something I’ve not called someone before. Because all my long-term-relationships are a whopping three months and allow no time for     any cutsie nicknames beyond a first name, nothing more. Maybe, eventually I could call her handsome pants or lovey butt or strong, burly girlfriend       who can easily pick me off the ground. Because she did lift me high after some successful challenging that it was near impossible      to lift this body so round. And after not only lifting me like a fairly princess in the air. She followed it up by saying that I was light, the flattery I almost could not bear. So I giggled and turned red and prayed that my child-like antics weren’t completely clear. But really, fuck it, I’m giddy over this Cooper Lee Bombadier. In fact I decided it best to write it down for others to read and hear. And if all else fails, at least I can continue to take her out and prop her up against my          empty glass of beer.