Oh hey. Let's go on a date. I hear the latest issue of our favorite print-only quarterly magazine has just been released, and its flying off the shelves. This issue pays special tribute to photographers who explore the bloody underbelly of the urban butchery movement and who only shoot with expired film. After we track down a copy we can sit on the curb and scarf vegan donuts.
Oh hey, let's go on a date. I've matched the cardinal hue of our jackets to perfectly complement the color that the forest leaves will turn as we stroll along a deer path to my secret-special-spot beside the eddying river pools. We'll skip stones on the water's surface and you can impress me with your dexterous technique. Four in a row, you promise? Oh my. What skill.
Oh hey, let's go on a date. I'm sure no one will notice that we've dressed as reverse twinsies, and if they do they'll probably ask us to model for an impromptu engagement style shoot. I've got a bevy of props in my goatskin backpack just in case: some vintage suitcases, a typewriter or two, a few mustaches on sticks...Let's just say if doesn't happen I'll be sore disappointed.
Oh hey, let's go on a date. I've made a sign that says 'Gone Fishing', and that's what we're gonna do. I'm thrilled with the sign, now that you mention it. I commissioned a calligrapher and a wood etcher and researched 14th century sign-making techniques to ensure the process was historically accurate. In fact I'm broke as a result and can't afford the fishing date now...wanna just stay in?