"Gee, you all look so sober tonight," I said, as I slipped into the lounge's booth, and gestured for the server. "Are those Virgin Marys?"
"Watch your language," Sue warned. "That's not PC anymore. And, no, we're not drinking alcohol.
"That's a change," I swallowed a scoff as I caught sight of the frowns around the table. "Can I ask why?"
"Sure," Curmudgeon said. "Because of #metoo."
"Oh, you mean you don't want to risk doing anything that you or your friends and dates would regret," I nodded.
"No," Pat interjected. "We're all perfect women, men, and non-binary folks. No handshakes til the third date--and you have to get consent."
Nods all around.
Eye roll from me. "Well, I'm fully on board with the consent, but that date pace sounds positively Victorian."
Sue shook her head. "You just don't get it. Times have changed. You can't advocate for cultural practices that were so 'last decade'."
I snorted. "Well, last several decades anyway, but, okay, so you're saying the pendulum has swung and we have to give up swinging. Is it still okay to have sex before marriage?"
Curmudgeon pulled a packet of papers from his briefcase. "You can adapt these forms for your sexual orientation. There's a "yes-no" checkbox for each step for your date--and your spouse. Don't leave home without one."
"Kinda kills the romance, doesn't it?" I sighed.
Pat shrugged. "Relationships are a drag anyway. I'm too busy at work keeping my job."
"You don't want a family someday?" I asked.
Head shakes from everyone. "Kids are expensive. And there's too many people in the world as it is," Cur added. "I'd much rather spend my money on redecorating my apartment every few years."
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