Story 522: Confess All for the New Year

             (In a church’s closed confessional booth, Priest and Parishioner 1 are kneeling on opposite sides of a screen)

Priest: – say five Our Fathers and two Hail Marys, and do one charitable work.

Parishioner 1: (Crosses self) Oh good; thank you, Father.  (Starts to stand)

Priest: (Holds up a finger) Ah: one charitable work you haven’t already done this past Advent, or were planning in advance for Lent.

Parishioner 1: Shucks – I mean, understood.

Priest: (Lowers hand and nods) Off you go, then.

Parishioner 1: (Stands again) Thanks again, Father – see you at Mass in a bit.

Priest: See you in a bit.  (Parishioner 1 leaves the booth, closing the door on the way out; Priest takes out a cell phone, checks a display, and shakes head) <Tsk> 50-to-0; bless their hearts.  (Puts the phone away, then frowns slightly on hearing the sound of raised voices outside the booth; the door suddenly flies open and Priest sees Penitent standing there with several angry parishioners standing some distance behind)

Penitent: Excuse me, Father, but can I give confession and get absolution and everything even though I’m not a parishioner here?

Priest: …Are you Catholic?

Penitent: (Thinks for half a second) Yeah.

Priest: (Gestures for Penitent to come into the booth) Then I’ll hear your confession and grant absolution.

Penitent: Great!  (Closes the door on the grumbling crowd and kneels) Figured “New Year, New Me” and all that, right?

Priest: Hm.  (Makes the sign of the cross for Penitent) In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit –

Penitent: (Crosses self) Oh yeah, I remember this part: bless me, Father, for I have sinned; it’s been more than 30 years since my first confession – (Pulls out a sheaf of paper from an inner jacket pocket) so I’ve got quite a list –

Priest: Hold on: you don’t need to confess every sin you’ve committed in the past 30 years.

Penitent: I don’t?

Priest: There’s a line of people waiting after you and about – (Briefly checks a wristwatch) 20 minutes before I have to prepare for Mass, so just… consolidate by topic.

Penitent: (Nods) Got it.  (Starts skimming through the papers) OK, here’s a recurring theme: (Looks back up at Priest) I lie, a lot.  And I mean, a lot: I almost wanted to lie to you just now and say I only do it occasionally, it’s that bad.

Priest: (Nods) Mm-hm.

Penitent: (Grabs onto the holes in the screen) It’s a real compulsion, and it’s ruining my life – you gotta help me, Father, how do I stop myself?!

Priest: This is only confession, my child; if you need spiritual guidance, please call the main office to make an appointment and I’ll be happy to speak with you all about it another time.

Penitent: (Lets go of the screen) Never mind.  (Flips through the papers) OK… (Looks back up at Priest) I cheated on my taxes and other stuff I owed for decades and told people I was making a stand against big government, but deep down I was just being cheap.

Priest: (Nods) Uh-huh – not to judge, but I have to warn you that that may catch up with you one day.  Legally speaking.

Penitent: Whaddya mean?

Priest: I mean, you may get audited and have to pay fines and back taxes, and maybe even serve time in prison.

Penitent: Oh!  That reminds me – (Flips through a few more sheets, runs a finger down the page, stops at a paragraph and looks back up at Priest) burglary.

Priest: You’ve committed it?

Penitent: Yeah.

Priest: Have you made restitution?

Penitent: Huh?  Oh, well, not directly; I served seven years in the state pen for it, does that count?

Priest: (Sighs quietly) It will have to in this case.

Penitent: That brings me to another thing: while I was inside the priest there kept wanting to hear my confession for it, but my whole defense was based on me saying I didn’t do it, which clearly didn’t work, but if I then confessed saying I did do it then it’d’ve felt like the whole thing was pointless, but now I’m wondering if not confessing was really just doubling down on the sin?

Priest: (Thinks for a few moments) Well, you’re confessing it now, so we’ll leave it at that, then.

Penitent: Awesome!  `Cause I might have to do it again, so if I get caught again I wanted to make sure I should just confess all from the get-go.

Priest: My child, instead please resolve not to break the law for your own gain going forward.

Penitent: Oh, it’s not for me: a buddy of mine really wants to get back at this other dude for –

Priest: (Holds up both hands) Please don’t tell me any more details of your life of crime!

Penitent: (Nods knowingly) Plausible deniability – I get it.

Priest: (Lowers hands and shakes head) No: everything you say here is confidential under the seal of confession, but I don’t want – I don’t need to be told every single detail to grant you absolution, understood?  And please stop committing felonies and misdemeanors.

Penitent: I dunno, Father, how’m I supposed to do that?

Priest: It’s amazingly easy not to do something – it requires literally no effort on your part.

Penitent: (Nods while thinking) You know, you might have something there.  (Flips through more pages as Priest wearily shakes head) Here’s a recent one that’s a real pickle: some frenemy asked me to adopt a cat from the local shelter, but I don’t have supplies and I didn’t really want to take all that on, so I didn’t.

Priest: That’s… not a sin.

Penitent: Really?  Why not?

Priest: You admittedly wouldn’t have been able to take care of the cat, so instead the creature will go to a loving home with people who actually “want to take all that on”.

Penitent: (Scoffs) I doubt it – I was told this cat’s pretty much unadoptable and I was asked as a last resort, so I don’t think that fur baby’s going anywhere good, if you know what I mean.

Priest: (Rubs temples and quietly recites) “Jesus loves me, this I know – ”

Penitent: (Leans closer to the screen) What’s that, Father?

Priest: (Drops hands and looks back at Penitent) Listen, I think you’ve confessed enough for one day –

Penitent: (Holds up the sheaf) But Father, I’m just getting started!

Priest: We’re running out of time, and as I’ve mentioned there are others waiting after you, so let’s wrap this up with the basics: have you committed acts of gluttony?

Penitent: (Tilts head to think) Sometimes.  Really just on Thanksgiving, but don’t we all?

Priest: (Grinds teeth) Envy?

Penitent: Eh.

Priest: Wrath?

Penitent: (Eyes flare) Yeah!

Priest: Lust?

Penitent: (Eyes leer) Oh, yeah!

Priest: Pride?

Penitent: (Smiles smugly) I can say, with all humility, no.  (Priest stares at Penitent, who looks down and mumbles) Maybe a little.

Priest: Sloth?

Penitent: (Looks back up) Hey, so what if I like to sleep in every now and then?  Science backs me up: it’s medically necessary!

Priest: Greed?

Penitent: Is it greedy to take more than my share because other people in my opinion have too much?

Priest: Yes.

Penitent: Then yes.  But I really think I should get more time to cover the decades I skipped –

Priest: No!  You’re done here taking up everyone’s time, including mine!  (Quickly makes the sign of the cross for Penitent, who automatically crosses self in response) I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit – great, now I’m doing this all backwards, I forgot to give you your penance first!

Penitent: Oh that’s all right, Father, I won’t tell anyone if you skip that part.  (Winks broadly)

Priest: Nothing doing!  Your penance is to say 50 Our Fathers and 50 Hail Marys, and do 30 charitable works, including finding that poor cat a forever home if it’s not too late!

Penitent: (Stands suddenly) Whoa, Father, that’s all a bit harsh, don’t you think?!

Priest: On the contrary, I don’t think it’s harsh enough!  Just be thankful I didn’t thrown in reciting 50 rosaries on top of it!

Penitent: (Shoves papers back into the jacket pocket and sighs heavily) Fine, I’ll do what you say, long as it means I’m now all clear to go and sin some more.

Priest: It’s “go and sin no more”!

Penitent: Really?  Well that’s just an unreasonable expectation.  (Opens the door, sees the angry crowd, and turns back around) Ooh, I forgot to add: I cut the line so I could go next; is that a sin, too?

Priest: (Glares at Penitent) Yes, but since you finished confessing and I already granted absolution, you’ll have to save that one for next time.

Penitent: “Next time”?!  You mean I have to keep coming back?!  What kind of racket is this??!!  (Meanwhile, Parishioner 2 has gone around Penitent to enter the booth and slams the door shut; Penitent’s voice is now muffled) I’m suing the Vatican!

Parishioner 2: (Smiles at Priest, kneels, and crosses self as Priest makes the sign of the cross) Bless me, Father, for I have sinned – it’s been one week since my last confession, and my first sin is the many, many uncharitable thoughts I’ve had towards that fellow penitent who left just now.

Priest: (Sighs) That will be my sin to confess as well, my child.

Story 521: Freeloading Christmas Party Guest

            (In a house full of Christmas trees, blinking lights, Nativity scenes, and snowpeople of all shapes and sizes, party guests eat, drink, and merrily finish preparing the main meal and all its side dishes)

Guest 1: (To Host) I know I’m stuffing my mouth with five different types of cheese right now, but I do mean it when I ask “Do you need any help?”

Host: (Pulling three trays out of the oven while stirring a pot of sauce with an elbow) Nah, I got it – but if you could light the burners under the racks for these pans, that’d be a big help!

Guest 1: (Stares at Host tossing the trays onto the racks and then whip up a salad out of thin air) …Sure, I think I can manage that.

(In the living room, guests stand, sit, and play according to age level when the front door suddenly bursts open)

Freeloader: Hey-hey, everybody, I made it!

Guests: Heyyyyy….

Guest 2: (Takes Freeloader’s coat and pointedly stares at the latter’s empty hands) Soooooo, anything that needs to be put in the fridge or out on the table?

Freeloader: Nope, just me, eh-heh-heh-heh!  I need a drink.  (Grabs an iced tea from a cooler, piles up a plate of appetizers, and sprawls across the couch, bumping a few guests aside) Coming in for a landing, folks!  (Guests move to the other side of the couch; Freeloader finishes the plate, tosses it and the iced tea onto the coffee table, and takes a nap)

Host: (Enters the living room with arms full of cups and cutlery) Dinner’s ready!

Freeloader: (Immediately wakes up and zooms to the dining room) Dibs on everything!

Host: (Sways in Freeloader’s wake) I didn’t even know you were here yet….

(After dinner, as many guests as possible pile into the kitchen and shuttle back and forth from there to the dining room to pack up whichever food is left, wash dishes, pots, and pans, and make room for dessert)

Host: (Carrying a tower of leftover containers; to guests) Oh really, this is such a big help –

Guests 1-20: Not at all!

(In the living room, Freeloader dozes in preparation for the after-dinner nap as several children rambunctiously play)

Freeloader: (Chuckles) I love how rowdy children are always someone else’s problem.

Child 1: (To Freeloader) I was told that when I reach double-digits, I have to take my place in the dish-drying line.

Freeloader: (Eyes close) Good for you.

Children 2-8: As must we all.

Freeloader: (Eyes open wide; Children 1-8 are standing in a row facing Freeloader, who then jumps while seated and looks up at the ceiling) Whoa, was that Santa’s sleigh landing on the roof just now?

Children 1-8: SANTA, YIPPPPPEEEEEEE!!!!!!  (They all run to their respective parents and beg to go outside)

Freeloader: (Leans back on the couch) Almost too easy.  (Turns head against the cushion to gaze fondly at the gently lit tree, then notices a tabletop Nativity scene nearby.  Squinting, Freeloader sees Baby Jesus in the manger, staring soulfully and gently accusingly back.  The two stare at each other as sweat beads on Freeloader’s forehead, until the latter can take the silent judgement no longer, jumps off the couch, and runs to the kitchen) Wait!  Save me a pot to scrub – a potato to wrap up – anything!

(Guest 2 and Guest 3 emerge from the corner they were watching from the whole time and follow)

Guest 3: That was a good idea, but I thought Baby Jesus isn’t supposed to be in there until Christmas Day?

Guest 2: What can I tell you?  He works in mysterious ways.

Story 520: Obligatory Card Season

             (Friend 1 and Friend 2 are seated at the kitchen table in Friend 1’s apartment; Friend 2 sips tea while Friend 1 works through a huge pile of mail)

Friend 1: (Ripping open envelopes, glancing briefly at the contents, and tossing them onto the table) – so then I said, “I get that you’re a manager with no actual break times and the expectation that you’re on-call 24/7, but I refuse to accept your being salaried as my problem when you want to stop for a snack at the exact same time I’m scheduled for dinner break, I don’t care if you only need five minutes.”

Friend 2: (Chokes on the tea) You didn’t actually say that, did you?

Friend 1: No, but I was sorely tempted to – I was hangry and it was getting to me.  (Opens a square red envelope, takes out and opens a greeting card, and widens eyes in horror) Uh-oh.

Friend 2: What, an eviction notice?

Friend 1: No!  Why would you even think that?!

Friend 2: (Slightly picks up one of the tossed-aside letters) Not to be an overly nosy friend, but half of these are bills.

Friend 1: And will be dealt with, all in good time!

Friend 2: Past due.

Friend 1: My time, not theirs!  (Holds up the card) It’s a Christmas card from one of my cousins!

Friend 2: Aw, how nice.

Friend 1: No it isn’t, because I completely forgot to send out mine!  (Rustles through the remainder of the mail pile and pulls out a bunch of red, green, and white decorative square envelopes) Look at all these!  They’re all coming in now, and I have yet to send out a single one!  With the month already almost half over!  (Tosses the cards back onto the table)

Friend 2: Yeah.

Friend 1: …I missed Hanukkah, didn’t I.

Friend 2: I wasn’t going to bring it up.

Friend 1: Son of a – !  Happy Hanukkah, by the way; I hope you had a nice one.

Friend 2: Thank you; the family says they hope you have a Merry Christmas.

Friend 1: (Grabs an envelope and holds it up) Your folks sent me a card, too!  (Also tosses it back onto the table, then grabs another one and holds it up) And here’s yours!  (Tosses that back onto the table as well, and rubs face) Is it too late to send out Hanukkah cards for this year, or would that only double-underline my faux pas?

Friend 2: Don’t worry, if you send them out now I promise we won’t return them to sender.

Friend 1: Thanks, you’re a very understanding pal.  (Runs hands through the multicolored pile of joyful wishes) Maybe I should just skip this year completely and they’ll all thank me for having to send out one less card going forward, since I’ll be crossed off the ever-growing list.

Friend 2: Maybe they would secretly, but at family functions your name would forever be mud.

Friend 1: You got that right.  (Sinks head onto the table)

Friend 2: (Finishes the tea and brings the cup to the sink to wash it) Whelp, I would offer to help in the spirit of the season, but I really don’t feel like spending the rest of my Sunday being your correspondence secretary so I’m going to play the guilt card you handed me earlier and leave you to tackle this on your own.

Friend 1: (Sits up again) Fair enough.  As your revel in your freedom this afternoon, think of me and my self-imposed toil.

Friend 2: I’d rather not.  (Leaves)

Friend 1: (Stares at the pile of cards, which seems to have grown when no one was looking) Why do we inflict this chore on ourselves?

ONE HOUR LATER

(Friend 1 is back at the table having gathered boxed cards, stamps, pens, an address book, and run out to the store for more boxed cards when seeing that the current boxes were almost empty)

Friend 1: (Braces self) Right.  Let us begin with the letter “A”.  (Opens the address book to “A”, brings the book closer to stare at the page, then roughly turns pages to skim through the names) What – why have I never noticed that a bunch of these relatives have been dead for years?!... And why has the post office never told me either?!  (Grabs a pen and starts crossing out names) And great, the rest of these moved so now I need to call around for new addresses – this is going to take forever!

TWO HOURS LATER

(Friend 1 is on a roll writing out cards and envelopes)

Friend 1: (Freezes in mid-sealing of an envelope) Wait a minute – is this one still at the same address as the parents?  (Flips back through the address book to an earlier letter in the alphabet) Yep, and I gave them all the same card!  (Unseals the envelope and opens the card) Think anyone’ll notice correction tape?

TWO HOURS LATER

(Friend 1 sits back in the chair and shakes out writer’s-cramped hand)

Friend 1: Done.  It’s done at last.  They can all be satisfied with our mutual obligation for at least one more year.  Now to the easy part.  (Grabs a sheet of stamps as the cell phone rings; answers the call after looking at the ID) Hey, what’s up?

Friend 2: (Voice) Just checking on the status of your homework.

Friend 1: (Stamping envelopes absent-mindedly) You’re hilarious.  Yes, I have finally reached the end of the address book for all 732 of my relatives, along with a few friends – you and your family and several others are getting generic “Season’s Greetings” cards at this point, by the way.

Friend 2: (Voice) Fine by me.  Don’t you love this time of year?

Friend 1: You know, it’s often hard to tell if you’re being sincere or sarcastic.  (Suddenly gasps)

Friend 2: (Voice) Oh no, what holiday horror is it now?

Friend 1: I RAN OUT OF STAMPS!

Story 519: I Thought We Were Starring in a Love Story?

            (Romantic Lead 1 and Romantic Lead 2 meet cute on a battlefield and mutually disarm each other)

Romantic Lead 1: (Lifts up helmet’s visor to reveal a subjectively attractive face) AHA!  So it comes to this: one last, final combat, ending with me defeating a worthy opponent with my bare hands!

Romantic Lead 2: (Also lifts up helmet’s visor to reveal a subjectively attractive face) Not if I defeat you with my bare hands first, oh representative of my people’s mortal enemies!

Romantic Lead 1: Ideals are rubbish!  I spit on them!  (Dry spits onto the ground)

Romantic Lead 2: (Gasps) You clearly have no soul!  What do you fight for, then?

Romantic Lead 1: Money.  I never let emotions get in the way of doing a good job – I’m only in this battle `cause being a soldier’s the one thing I’m fit for in life, and I’m just following orders.  (Immediately winces)

Romantic Lead 2: (Also winces, and shakes head) Ooooh, no-no-no-no –

Romantic Lead 1: Yeah, the moment the words came out of my mouth, I realized – (A nearby explosion makes them both flinch) Enough of this palaver: on to the death match!

Romantic Lead 2: YES!  (They race toward each other and grapple in an extremely well-choreographed melee until Romantic Lead 2 lands astride Romantic Lead 1, poised to deliver a fatal blow) Yield!

Romantic Lead 1: Never!  (Dry spits again, off to the side)

Romantic Lead 2: Stop that!  You’re ruining an otherwise suggestive moment.

Romantic Lead 1: Why would you want me to yield anyway?  Shouldn’t you just be killing me outright, like any regular ol’ soldier’s supposed to do?!

Romantic Lead 2: I – don’t know…?

Romantic Lead 1: Or are you suddenly authorized to take prisoners now?

Romantic Lead 2: Not that I’ve been told.

Soldier 1: But we are.

(Romantic Lead 1 and Romantic Lead 2 abruptly notice that they are surrounded by other soldiers wearing uniforms not matching either of theirs and all pointing weapons at them)

Romantic Lead 1 and Romantic Lead 2: Who the blazes are you?!

Soldier 1: Opportunists needed for the plot.  Take `em, fellas!

(Romantic Lead 1 and Romantic Lead 2 are dragged to their feet)

Soldier 2: Should we chain them together or individually?

Soldier 1: Together – it’ll ratchet up the tension.

Soldier 2: What?

Soldier 1: What?

(Romantic Lead 1 and Romantic Lead 2 are thrown into a dank cell, chained together at the wrist)

Romantic Lead 1: (As they sit on the dirty floor, companionably back-to-back) Well, this is an unfortunate turn of events.

Romantic Lead 2: Yeah – can’t hate you as much if we’ve now both got someone else to hate even more.

Romantic Lead 1: (Sighs heavily) I suppose we’ll have to work together in order to get out of here, exchanging personal histories and common interests in the process, thereby earning each other’s trust, respect, and, dare I say it, admiration.  (Turns to Romantic Lead 2 and attempts to stare soulfully at the latter)

Romantic Lead 2: I guess.  (Raises eyebrows with an idea) OR, we can actually get some sleep until the inevitable prisoner exchange goes through.  (Shifts chain to lie down and falls asleep immediately)

Romantic Lead 1: (Stares blankly at Romantic Lead 2 for several seconds) …Yeah, sounds like a good idea.  (Also lies down and falls asleep immediately)

Soldier 1: (Casually passes by the cell, peeks in, and stomps off, muttering) Dang it, they’re not even hate-flirting with each other.

(After a botched prisoner exchange, Romantic Lead 1 and Romantic Lead 2 are on the run still chained to each other – they traverse fields and forests with no real destination in mind, until the chains finally fall off after months of rust)

Romantic Lead 2: (As each rub their raw and possibly infected wrists) Wow.  We’re finally free of each other.

Romantic Lead 1: Yes, finally free….  Glad there’ll be no more of those awkward bathroom breaks, am-I-right?

Romantic Lead 2: Yeah, could have done without having to figure out those logistics.  So, the offer I mentioned some time ago is still open: you want to join me in my quest to overthrow both of our corrupt governments and that random third-party that imprisoned us out of nowhere?

Romantic Lead 1: (Thinks for a few moments, then shakes head) Nah, sounds like too much work.  I’d rather just go to a tavern, get some decently cooked food for the first time in almost a year, then go home and hope I don’t get executed for desertion.

Romantic Lead 2: You know, I think I like that option better.  Mind if I join you?

Romantic Lead 1: Not in the slightest – after all we’ve been through together, it’d feel kind of weird us not being by each other’s sides anymore, day in, day out….

Romantic Lead 2: Same.  Isn’t that funny?

(They laugh gently, then turn to face the gorgeous sunset as non-diegetic music swells in the background)

Romantic Lead 2: (Leans toward Romantic Lead 1 while both still stare at the inspirational view) Not to spoil the moment, but I have to ask: has anyone ever mentioned that you tend to be a mouth breather?

Romantic Lead 1: …Yes.  Has anyone ever mentioned that your breath has a strange odor, and not just after certain foods, but all the time?

Romantic Lead 2: …Yes.  Might be a medical condition – I never bothered to find out.

Romantic Lead 1: (Nods) Likewise.

(Both clamp their mouths shut while watching the Earth rotate away from its star)

(In a tavern, Romantic Lead 1 and Romantic Lead 2 are served dinner)

Romantic Lead 1: (As both dig in) On an expository note, that was darned clever of you to have extra coins sewn under your skin before the battle on the off-chance you were ever taken prisoner and then escaped with no income to be had for months on end.

Romantic Lead 2: Why, thank you.  And that was clever of you to convince our superiors that we spent this entire time spying for our respective sides so they’d agree not to end us on our return.

Romantic Lead 1: Why, thank you.  It seems we make a good team, after all.

Romantic Lead 2: Definitely.  (They clank their steins in a toast and drink, then eat in awkward silence for a few moments)

Romantic Lead 1: (Brow furrowed in thought) You know, I’ve been thinking –

Romantic Lead 2: (Gulps down a pepper nervously) Yes?

Romantic Lead 1: We’ve been through a lot together – and I mean, a lot –

Romantic Lead 2: (Nods frantically while drinking, then wipes upper lip) Uh-huh, darn tootin’ we have, what with the battle, and the imprisonment, and being on the run, and all the adventures we’ve had that are too many to go over now, and the forced closeness for months, and all the things we’ve learned about each other’s lives…. (Drinks some more)

Romantic Lead 1: (Distractedly spins a fork on the table) Yeah… all that tends to lead inevitably to one thing….

Romantic Lead 2: (Devours a celery stalk in three bites) Does it?

Romantic Lead 1: Mm-hmm…. (Looks up at Romantic Lead 2) That’s why, it’s so hard for me say that, I’m… not in love with you.

Romantic Lead 2: (Blinks for a beat) Oh thank goodness!

Romantic Lead 1: What?

Romantic Lead 2: You said “not”, right?

Romantic Lead 1: Yeah?

Romantic Lead 2: Well that’s perfect, because I feel exactly the same way!

Romantic Lead 1: Wait, so it’s not just me?  You’re not in love with me, too?

Romantic Lead 2: (Laughs while shaking head) No!  It’s the strangest thing!

Romantic Lead 1: I know!  I mean, for one thing, you are hot.

Romantic Lead 2: As are you.

Romantic Lead 1: And yet, here we are.  It boggles the mind.

Romantic Lead 2: I tried my best, I really did!  All the signs were pointing that way, with us going the “enemies-to-friends” route and everything.

Romantic Lead 1: Exactly!  The next logical step clearly was “-to-lovers”, and I kept waiting and waiting for it to happen, but no matter how much I forced myself, I just couldn’t get past feelings of… camaraderie.

Romantic Lead 2: (Clasps hands in glee) It’s like we’re on the same wavelength in everything!  Oh, this is wonderful!

(They smile broadly at each other and return to eating comfortably now)

Romantic Lead 1: I must say, this is certainly a relief – now we can go back home to our families and friends emotionally unimpeded.

Romantic Lead 2: Ugh, yes, thankfully; I hate pining.  Something like that would’ve been extra difficult seeing as our two peoples still are, you know, at never-ending war with each other.

Romantic Lead 1: Yes, that would have been the exact definition of “star-crossed lovers”: years of us longing for each other, possibly marrying someone else for societal convenience, and then maybe crossing paths at some point in the distant future for one passionate hook-up that’ll have to last us for the rest of our lives, blech.  (Shudders in disgust)

Romantic Lead 2: (Grimaces in sympathy) Yeah, this way’s much less stressful and angst-ridden.

(They eat some more in companionable silence)

Romantic Lead 1: (Looks up at Romantic Lead 2 in sudden thought) We’ll still write each other when we part ways though, right?

Romantic Lead 2: Of course!  Who else out there would put up with us?

Romantic Lead 1: (As they clasp arms across the table and grin) Buddy!