I have this thing for women in overalls. I don't know why. I just think they look abominably cute in them.

However, the woman in this story was not wearing overalls. She was actually dressed pretty nicely, and I think it was because she was on a first date with the guy she was sitting with. My friend and I were having dinner last night in some Mexican restaurant that I described as "having atmosphere" (meaning that it's relatively cheap but the food was good but the distinguishing factor was the fact that the inside of the place was decorated like you were sitting in a cave with stalactites hanging from the ceiling and the entire inside covered in rock). When he left to go to the bathroom, I noticed the fairly-attractive woman sitting at the table across from ours and, as is my nature as a mild busybody (also known as "yenta" in Yiddish terms), I eavesdropped a bit on their conversation. Seems that they were just getting to know each other, which led me to believe they were on an initial date, and I was sorry to hear that the guy was just getting ripped apart. I mean, she was just tearing into him. They were talking initially about gender roles. She was completely shredding this guy about his opinions on female roles in the workplace, and it was plainly obvious that this guy couldn't hold his own in a debate, especially not against someone who has thought about these things, formed opinions and wasn't afraid to express them. He just seemed like one of those shy, ephemeral people who just kind of drifts through life, and that's when I stopped feeling sorry for him and started feeling sorry for me.

I just started wishing that I was in that conversation. That I was the one whose brain was being challenged, because I am so completely turned on by an attractive woman who challenges me to think. I honestly believe that while I was unemployed, my brain turned to mush and I was lacking insight into a lot of things because I had become stupid. Either way, I'm thankful that I'm now employed and am socially interacting with people who make me think. My IQ is slowly going back up again.

But getting back to the conversation at hand. They progressed onwards to the topic of personal assistants, which the woman likened to mild slavery -- an indentured servancy, I suppose -- and he just kind of shrugged off as "it's a job, and people want to have PAs and other people need jobs." At this point, my friend came back to the table and the couple left shortly thereafter.

Bugger all.