When I first met Mr. Possibility, I found him visually appealing -- tall, dark, and handsome like we're taught to be drawn to. He was incredibly gentlemanly and also easy to talk to. He took me to a nice dinner for our first date, to a fancy lunch for our second, and to a hockey game for our third. He has been attentive without smothering. He makes me laugh and laughs in return at my terrible jokes. He finds me attractive without being a creeper.
But his name is dreadful. Think of the worst name ever. Then tweak that to a cartoonish level. Now multiply that times 32.7 -- you might be coming close to this poor bloke's name.
Also he doesn't vote. In an election year. At a time where I'm watching all the Republican debates and my gym time is being spurred on by CNN coverage of the end of the war in Iraq, the State of the Union address, and the effects of the worst depression since the Great one, this guy doesn't vote.
So nice. So cute. So fun. And so no spark.
What to do? Do I go out again? Do I try desperately to not talk politics like I was always taught? Do I give him a cute pet name to avoid the atrocity on his birth certificate?
Maybe another chance with The Badly Named Possibility is in order. After all the word "Possibility" is in there for a reason. Stay tuned...
