I am helping my neighbor pack up her garage when I come aross the watermelon costume, which practically screams "date night." My neighbor tries to get me to take a vintage silk kimono instead, but where, exactly, is the imagination in that?
Call me an overachiever, but that is setting the bar pretty low. Anyone can set the mood in a 50-year-old kimono that has been sitting in somebody's garage for a year. Plus, it belonged to her grandmother and that is like catnip to the married man.
"Kimonos are for amateurs," I tell her. "This piece of handcrafted produce, on the other hand, requires some serious game." She responds with some watermelon-themed dirty talk that makes me rethink my assumptions about Midwestern PTA mommies. Also fruit salad.
The more I think about it, the fruit-themed role-playing seems almost too easy. But paired with the bleak Hungarian film about a dead horse and a German philosopher I have chosen for tonight's entertainment, the degree of difficulty may be just about
Photo: The possibilities are seedless.
from the date night archives: The Secret is Pretending to Care