reason why I am a bad person, #4858:

Last Sunday at Mass, when the priest asked us to pray for our "very special intentions," I bowed my head and, as is my wont, implored the good Lord for one of those morally upright boyfriends (but with a degenerate wit, so as to avoid boredom) of whom I've heard tell. As I did so, I thought idly of the various dates I had been on over the past few months. My mind began to dwell on a disastrous dinner with someone we'll call Chain Mail Boy, and I started snickering quietly. Y'know, during Mass.

Fellows in the audience, here's a tip. Ren Faire reminisces make better conversational material for the second date. Also, the making of chain mail is not a hobby likely to win over the, uh, wenches.