So I was at a Ladies' Art Society Quilting Bee, embroidering topographical maps of prairie in the process of being restored onto pieced handmade paper (made from, among other things, native milkweed), and I was talking about chainsaw sculptures of vaginas and ballroom dancing, and someone says
"I have a friend who just started going to the ballroom dance club. I'm trying to set him up with all of my single friends, because he's a really great guy."
to which I reply,
"Who's your friend?"
And as soon as I say it, I realize it sounds like I'm volunteering myself to date this guy, when this is actually the one time in my life that I wasn't thinking that, I was just thinking that I would love to know more nice people in the club, especially leads.
The conversation drifts a little, before she says,
"So if you ever meet Ben ----"
And it turns out that the one guy she knows in the club is also the one guy I know in the club, and actually I'm the one who invited him to start going, and I won't be dating him because I already asked him a year or two ago and he declined, and this is one more story about what a tiny damn town I live in.
The End.
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