Imagine you’re a man who bought a Chrysler with a 116,000 miles on it and your dream scenario to woo an NFL cheerleader who is celebrating earning her law degree from UNLV is to take her to IHOP.
Over chocolate pancakes, you regale CheerLaw10 with the saga of the fake fat judge who ruled that Taylor Swift owed you no duty to make you a star, but quip that if the law talkin’ cheerleader had been on your side, Taylor Swift would now literally be your maid servant polishing your shoes AND your Grammys.
CheerLaw10 agrees and plays the flirty footsie with you that you should’ve gotten from Taylor Swift. She tells an anecdote about her time in law school, but you don’t listen, because you’re too busy imagining your adopted parents and bio sister resenting that you’ve finally found the perfect 10 you’ve been owed since birth but they wouldn’t help you win.
CheerLaw10 wants to conclude the evening with a gas station coffee just like you do. You tell her she’s beautiful as she sips her styrofoam cup and she smiles, because in all her life, this gorgeous model caliber woman ain’t never been told that buy any man, ever. Sex on your Goodwill loveseat will obviously follow.
Imagine this being not only your idea of the perfect date, but being wholly unable to fathom that anything better could even exist for CheerLaw10.