In response to Monday's challenge to Frank McCourt, an e-mail thread between Dan Reines and Jon Weisman:

Dan: Jon, you said what I'd been thinking. I've got some serious doubts already.

I feel like I'm all dolled up and nursing a Manhattan at a restaurant bar, watching man after man walk through the door and wondering which one's the blind date. And it's getting late, and I've been waiting nearly an hour, and the bartender keeps asking if I want another, and I'm really starting to wonder if I've been stood up.

Frank McCourt, don't stand me up! I'm a sure thing, baby, a rebound! All you have to do is buy me dinner, open the door for me, treat me nice. All you have to do is not be Rupert Murdoch. That's it, Frank. It's so easy.

Please don't tease me, Frank. Please don't be cruel. I'm really vulnerable right now.

Jon: Thanks, Dan. I guess I'm like the jaded divorcee who is starting to think that all the good ones are taken, and the rest ain't worth even a one-night stand.

Dan: Yes. And your sister just met a really nice guy named Arte, and that hurts as much as it helps, doesn't it?

I could go on all day with this metaphor, Jon. It just feels right.

Jon: Oh, it feels right now, Dan, but what about in the morning?

Dan: Screw the morning, Jon. I'm drunk and haven't had a man in seven months.

Okay, I think I found the limit to this metaphor. Hm.

In times like this, I turn to my guiding principle: "What would Bill Singer do?"

Jon: Yeah, that pretty much kills it. Sigh.