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Wednesday, December 08, 2004

You'd Better Let a Man Handle It

On a spectacular summer evening in Athens like this one I couldn’t imagine anything going wrong. I wanted everything to be special. I was going out with someone I sort of dug and I had planned everything a couple days before. I thought that I was being the macho, alpha male, the type-A guy by taking care of the details. There was nothing to worry about; I had it all under control.

We started out with a nice dinner in the old Plaka section of Athens which lies directly below the Acropolis. I had been through the Plaka on a hundred occasions and I knew every nook and cranny, every alley and patio. This is important because women like dudes who know their way around. Dinner was perfect as it always was when you stuck to Greek food. Even the wine was good. The odds of getting a good Greek wine back then were about the same as winning a coin toss. After dinner I had a little surprise planned that I thought would impress my date.

I led the way as we walked across to the far west side of the Acropolis. We were going to see the Acropolis Sound and Light Show. I bought tickets and we found seats in the outdoor theater along with a group of about 30 other people. As we settled back in our seats, the lights to the theater went out, and classical music began playing over the loudspeakers. The Parthenon and surrounding ruins began erupting in spectacular flurry of colored lights. I immediately sensed that I had scored some major points by my choice of entertainment for the evening.

I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I was a real take-charge kind of guy who could hail a cab and negotiate a good price, order dinner in Greek, and then finally turn a kitschy tourist attraction into a night to remember. I’m not gay but just the thought of me was making me hot. How could any mortal woman not be totally enthralled by such a go-getter? Women of the world, surrender! Resistance is futile.

My plan was the Acropolis sound and light show, a more spectacular setting would be difficult to imagine, a more perfect night impossible. I led the way to our seats on a small clearing directly adjacent to one of the world’s most iconic settings.

The initial barrage of lights and music dimmed down and we both waited in anticipation of the next thrill to come our way. That was when the historical narrative about the history of the Acropolis began. At least I think that was what they were saying because it was in fucking GERMAN! To English speakers, German sounds kind of funny. My date looked over at me and positively burst out laughing. I practically had to carry her out of there. Maybe there is a culture on this planet where guys score points with the babes for being dipshits, but I haven’t made it to that country yet. I should be granted honorary citizenship and made Minister of the department of “Don’t Worry, I Got It Covered.”

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