We headed straight for the restaurant.

I had a feeling the hostility did not end in the car. As we looked over the menu, she suggested I order large portions for myself. I asked, "Do I look that hungry?"

She said, "No, you look lean and undernourished."

I asked, "Why do you say that?"

She said, "Your toupee is loose."

"I don't wear a toupee. My hair is just a little messed up from keepin

We often hear of relationships which start out bad but straighten out in the end. We even hear of relationships which start out good but then turn sour. But when a relationship starts off with all the romantic overtones of a documentary on the Asian flu, develops with the smoothness of an intoxicated chimpanzee doing a waltz on roller skates, then blossoms with the colorful brilliance of a malnourished vegetable, you know something's wrong. Such was my nine-month relationship with Sally. (Sally was not her real name. But that didn't come as a terrible shock, since her age and hair color weren't real either.)

That we were headed for rough times, was somewhat obvious on our first date. We had just seen a Broadway musical. Walking towards the car, I tried starting a conversation somewhere along the lines of "music," "dance," "scenery." How I failed so miserably I'll never know. Instead, she asked me if I could do her a favor and take her dog to the veterinarian the next day. I said, "But we hardly know each other."

She said, "So? Does my dog have to suffer because we hardly know each other?"

As we drove to a restaurant, I sensed her attitude turning somewhat hostile. I started feeling guilty about not agreeing to take her dog to the vet. Her dog, I said to myself, probably had two broken hind legs, and Sally probably had to visit a sick aunt in the hospital. How could I be so inconsiderate? But when I found out her dog was going in for his annual chest X-ray, and she had an appointment with her hair dresser, it made me furious. Was her hair more important than her dog's health? And I couldn't help wondering how, many packs a day did her dog smoke?

This is when it occurred to me that this date was not on the right track. Here we were between a play and a restaurant, and she was hostile and I was furious. I had a more cordial relationship with my parole officer.

I thought, maybe we ought to go back to her house, start the date over, and see if we can get it right. Then I realized what an unrealistic thought that was. What if her parents moved out while we were out on our date? She could become my responsibility. At least in the restaurant there was a chance she might fall in love with the waiter and I'll go home alone.

We headed straight for the restaurant.

I had a feeling the hostility did not end in the car. As we looked over the menu, she suggested I order large portions for myself. I asked, "Do I look that hungry?"

She said, "No, you look lean and undernourished."

I asked, "Why do you say that?"

She said, "Your toupee is loose."

"I don't wear a toupee. My hair is just a little messed up from keeping

That we were headed for rough times, was somewhat obvious on our first date. We had just seen a Broadway musical. Walking towards the car, I tried starting a conversation somewhere along the lines of "music," "dance," "scenery." How I failed so miserably I'll never know. Instead, she asked me if I could do her a favor and take her dog to the veterinarian the next day. I said, "But we hardly know each other."

She said, "So? Does my dog have to suffer because we hardly know each other?"

As we drove to a restaurant, I sensed her attitude turning somewhat hostile. I started feeling guilty about not agreeing to take her dog to the vet. Her dog, I said to myself, probably had two broken hind legs, and Sally probably had to visit a sick aunt in the hospital. How could I be so inconsiderate? But when I found out her dog was going in for his annual chest X-ray, and she had an appointment with her hair dresser, it made me furious. Was her hair more important than her dog's health? And I couldn't help wondering how, many packs a day did her dog smoke?

This is when it occurred to me that this date was not on the right track. Here we were between a play and a restaurant, and she was hostile and I was furious. I had a more cordial relationship with my parole officer.

I thought, maybe we ought to go back to her house, start the date over, and see if we can get it right. Then I realized what an unrealistic thought that was. What if her parents moved out while we were out on our date? She could become my responsibility. At least in the restaurant there was a chance she might fall in love with the waiter and I'll go home alone.

We headed straight for the restaurant.

I had a feeling the hostility did not end in the car. As we looked over the menu, she suggested I order large portions for myself. I asked, "Do I look that hungry?"

She said, "No, you look lean and undernourished."

I asked, "Why do you say that?"

She said, "Your toupee is loose."

"I don't wear a toupee. My hair is just a little messed up from keepin

As we drove to a restaurant, I sensed her attitude turning somewhat hostile. I started feeling guilty about not agreeing to take her dog to the vet. Her dog, I said to myself, probably had two broken hind legs, and Sally probably had to visit a sick aunt in the hospital. How could I be so inconsiderate? But when I found out her dog was going in for his annual chest X-ray, and she had an appointment with her hair dresser, it made me furious. Was her hair more important than her dog's health? And I couldn't help wondering how, many packs a day did her dog smoke?

This is when it occurred to me that this date was not on the right track. Here we were between a play and a restaurant, and she was hostile and I was furious. I had a more cordial relationship with my parole officer.

I thought, maybe we ought to go back to her house, start the date over, and see if we can get it right. Then I realized what an unrealistic thought that was. What if her parents moved out while we were out on our date? She could become my responsibility. At least in the restaurant there was a chance she might fall in love with the waiter and I'll go home alone.

We headed straight for the restaurant.

I had a feeling the hostility did not end in the car. As we looked over the menu, she suggested I order large portions for myself. I asked, "Do I look that hungry?"

She said, "No, you look lean and undernourished."

I asked, "Why do you say that?"

She said, "Your toupee is loose."

"I don't wear a toupee. My hair is just a little messed up from keepin

This is when it occurred to me that this date was not on the right track. Here we were between a play and a restaurant, and she was hostile and I was furious. I had a more cordial relationship with my parole officer.

I thought, maybe we ought to go back to her house, start the date over, and see if we can get it right. Then I realized what an unrealistic thought that was. What if her parents moved out while we were out on our date? She could become my responsibility. At least in the restaurant there was a chance she might fall in love with the waiter and I'll go home alone.

We headed straight for the restaurant.

I had a feeling the hostility did not end in the car. As we looked over the menu, she suggested I order large portions for myself. I asked, "Do I look that hungry?"

She said, "No, you look lean and undernourished."

I asked, "Why do you say that?"

She said, "Your toupee is loose."

"I don't wear a toupee. My hair is just a little messed up from keepin

We headed straight for the restaurant.

I had a feeling the hostility did not end in the car. As we looked over the menu, she suggested I order large portions for myself. I asked, "Do I look that hungry?"

She said, "No, you look lean and undernourished."

I asked, "Why do you say that?"

She said, "Your toupee is loose."

"I don't wear a toupee. My hair is just a little messed up from keeping the car window open."

"Well, my ex-husband wore a toupee and he looked just like that."

"Like what? Lean?"

"No, messed up."

"Where did he buy his toupee?" I asked. "In Mop-City?"

She replied, "Who cuts your hair? Jack the Ripper?"

And so, the mood was set for a romantic dinner. I ordered lamb chops, she ordered well-done steak. When we got our orders, she insisted her steak was not well-done and had the waiter take it back. While we waited for her steak, we tried discussing a topic which could not possibly lead to any kind of dispute or resentment -- we remained silent.

A couple sitting at the next table looked at us, obviously amused. I said to them, "Would you believe this is our first date?"

As they both laughed, the guy asked, "What would you two do if you were married?"

I replied, "We'd probably shoot Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles at each other."

When Sally's steak arrived, I was a little embarrassed when she insisted her steak was still not well-done enough. The waiter looked quite irritated. In an attempt to avoid a scene, I whispered, "Sally, please, don't give the waiter a hard time."

She said, "Don't worry about it. I can handle him."

I said, "Don't be silly, he has a day job as a demolition expert for the Parking Violations Bureau. Your car'll never be safe in this town."

"I don't care if he's a Swat Team coordinator for the B'nai Brith," she replied angrily. "That steak is not well-done and I want him to take it back." Sally and the waiter looked at each other like two disgruntled hockey players about to strike each other with a puck. It was not a pretty sight. At that moment, it became painfully clear to me that my chances of going home alone that evening were unfortuntely rather slim.

As the waiter grudgingly took back Sally's steak once more, I knew I must be strong enough not to let little setbacks turn into major obstacles. There's always a light at the end of the tunnel. We were still on good terms with the busboy.

In a short few minutes our waiter returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray with two plates. One plate contained a small stack of ashes, the other plate