I called The Manny last night and asked him out for Saturday night (all without giggling) and, happily, he accepted. Of course, I asked him to go to a new Rock Opera in the West Village with me, which, when you think about it, is probably the gayest date a man and woman can go on. It's not like I opened with, "Hey Hot Lips, the Tractor Pull is in town. Wanna buy me a corn dog?"

Maybe I'll just keep asking him out on progressively butcher dates and see at what point he bails. I'll develop a new system, a modern take on Kinsey. "Well, he was down for Musical Theater, a trip to Pier One, the new John Cusak romantic comedy, and the Home Depot but he pouted when I suggested a Soppranos marathon and by the time I brought up the Mets it was over."