So I had sent the following email to the Bad Date guy letting him know that the hour I had spent with him was more than enough to suffice.
__________________________________________________________
Hi Bad Date,
I'm glad you had a fun road trip with your mom, it's great to add to the memory bank for later on in life. I'm sure you had a lot of laughs on the road!
I have to be honest with you: I don't feel like we're a very good match. I had a nice time talking with you over lunch, but I'm just not feeling it. Good luck dating, there's someone out there for everyone!
All the best,
Marsha
Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.
__________________________________________________________
That email had been carefully crafted with both male and female advisors.
40 minutes later I get the following response (and no, you can’t make this up):
__________________________________________________________
Hey Marsha.
I think someone has hacked into your blackberry. I just got a strange email from someone who is "not feeling it" ??? Wow.
Anyway, when do you want to meet up?
-Bad Date
__________________________________________________________
Hmm, HIGHLY disturbing. I didn’t think he was trying to be funny because he had not once been funny previously. He had been insecure and downright boring, but never funny. So if he was trying to make a joke out of my email…well, he failed. And I don’t know anyone who would respond positively to an email like his because I came right out and said “NO” and he writes back “YES.” That doesn’t bode well for future “NO’s” I’d be giving him. So I ignored his email, but I did forward it to just about everyone I know. I assumed I was free of him, and his psychotic “Yes” email was just positive affirmation that I most definitely did the right thing.
So the next day rolls around and I’m still chuckling about the email (yet a little frightened because it was so presumptuous). I was horrified when at 10:47 AM the following emails hits my Blackberry with the subject: "Hacked?"
__________________________________________________________
Hi Marsha, well I guess it wasn't a hacker after all. Anyway, no problems, it was nice to meet you. You seem like a great girl, I was happy to have the chance to get to know you.
If the fact that I am still married was the problem, of course I totally understand. I guess I should have made it more clear that I am still early in that process. It has taken some time to get to this point, and for the sake of her and my family, and not to drop this bomb on the law firm I just rejoined in the first few months of my being here, I choose not to make this public yet. Only my family and a few very close friends know what is going on now. But soon the divorce will be public (the marriage is over with zero chance of reconciliation).
I guess I am telling you this on the chance that when all this is behind me, I'd be perfectly willing to meet up for coffee and start over! If you want to chat or whatever in the mean time feel free to shot me an email, consider me a friend.
[If it has nothing to do with that and you 'just aint feelin me, dog'; so be it, no problem, different strokes and all that ...]
Thanks Marsha
-Bad Date
__________________________________________________________
Where to begin? Do I even need to add comment to this? I have to:
- “I was happy to have the chance to get to know you” --- do you know me? We met once, for just over an hour. I had a grilled cheese and a Diet Coke. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Glad you got the chance to know me.
-“If the fact that I am still married was the problem, of course I totally understand.” I really don’t have to add anything, this speaks for itself. But additional problems with you are that you’re FUG and BORING. Try Invisalign, Crest White Strips, and get a personality.
-"and not to drop this bomb on the law firm I just rejoined" --- I can't say this any better than a friend of mine did: Dude, you are not Tom Cruise and this is not "The Firm". No one cares!
-“I'd be perfectly willing to meet up for coffee and start over!” That’s great that you’re willing, but I think I made it pretty clear I am NOT interested. Go away.
-“just aint feelin me dog”??? WTF.
Thankfully that was the last of the DIRECT contact. Indirectly, he called our mutual “friend” who set us up and also said he was cute [insert gagging here] and asked her what he did wrong. Dude, we met once over lunch. I wasn’t interested. Stop obsessing and get over it. But just to be kind I told her it was the divorce thing. She said she was going to try and set him up with another girl in the office. GO AHEAD! But I just might have to warn here about the snaggletooth.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Because sometimes even the most stylish people have an off day.
What is style? Does it come from the inside or the outside? Is it from both? Should style equal comfort? Comfort in your own skin or comfort in your clothes? How do the two blend together? And what are the failings?
I like to think I’m stylish: I generally dress well and have nice clothing. People line up for my hand-me-downs. [To you bitches who criticized my non-designer jeans: I only bought them because I wasn’t sure skinny jeans were going to stay in style and didn’t want to invest a lot of money in a pair just to ditch them after one season. $40 at AE = well worth it.] I buy nice shoes and bags and belts and I take good care of my belongings. I invest in beautiful pieces that I have for years and years. My black DVF wrap dress doesn’t owe me anything and it’s still going strong.
Juicy Couture is an example of the successful merger of style and comfort, as are Hard Tail and So Low sweats and more recently Lulu Lemon. Each of these labels took comfort and brought in the crucial element of style – all of their designs have been mimicked for years now and women pay top dollar for the look.
But merging style and comfort has its failings, where something stylish and comfortable has been destroyed by fit. Sometimes it’s simply the wrong body type wearing something stylish: skinny jeans are not for everyone, even though jeans are one of the most forgiving of pants. [If you have no ass, skinny jeans are not your friend. Be sure to wear a tunic to conceal this.]
The following is an email I sent in November 2007 to my sister detailing my attire. Perhaps the most horrifying part is that I was on the train so I must have worn this outfit to my Manhattan office, which is FILLED with stylish people.
_______________________________________
Sent: Monday, November 19, 2007 5:39:57 PM
Subject: My outfit
So I told you I am wearing way too big pants, right? I also have on a big gray cardigan and a gray shirt underneath. The cardigan is longer but is doing nothing to conceal my saggy baggy ass. Oh, and the pants have one of those latch hooks at the waistband and they are so oversized that the latch won't work. Only the fly is keeping them up. And underneath the pants I have on a pair of beat up pink undies, so if my pants fall down it won't be pretty.
To walk home from the train I brought my Merrill snow boots. They are similar to Merrill mocs, but incredibly have a wider, more unflattering toe than the low mocs. It's an unbelievably good look.
Finally, I am wearing my long puffer parka and mittens and I have 2 bags with me. So I look like a crazy, disheveled bag lady with a load in her pants. If you see me walking on the street just keep going, I'll probably be looking for soda bottles and cans worth a nickel at the redemption place.
Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.
_______________________________________
I can tell you exactly what I was wearing. The whole outfit was from BCBG. [Stylish, right?] I still have everything but the pants: I believe I unloaded them on my “grab bag” shortly after this incident. The puffer coat is a North Face parka that has a flattering cut and despite being quilted down, doesn’t add bulk and is incredibly warm. The Merrill boots…well, it was November and my walk from the train is nearly a mile and it may have already snowed. I most certainly had lovely shoes on while in the office, and I was probably toting them in one of the two bags. (Again, I’m a nice person. Please don’t judge me by my postings here.) The undies were my first pair of Hanky Pankies and I got them before Hanky Pankies became a household name. I remain a loyal devotee and I did eventually part with my first pair.
But back to the point: while all of this was stylish independently (not the Merrills, I concede) the end result was a disaster. An unsuccessful merger of style and comfort, brought on by an ill-fitting pair of pants. So what’s a girl to do when she has a major failure? As a supremely stylish person I’m sure I carried it well in the office that day. Stand tall, shoulders back, walk confidently. No one will notice the ass of your pants is way too big when your personality and smile are even bigger.
I like to think I’m stylish: I generally dress well and have nice clothing. People line up for my hand-me-downs. [To you bitches who criticized my non-designer jeans: I only bought them because I wasn’t sure skinny jeans were going to stay in style and didn’t want to invest a lot of money in a pair just to ditch them after one season. $40 at AE = well worth it.] I buy nice shoes and bags and belts and I take good care of my belongings. I invest in beautiful pieces that I have for years and years. My black DVF wrap dress doesn’t owe me anything and it’s still going strong.
Juicy Couture is an example of the successful merger of style and comfort, as are Hard Tail and So Low sweats and more recently Lulu Lemon. Each of these labels took comfort and brought in the crucial element of style – all of their designs have been mimicked for years now and women pay top dollar for the look.
But merging style and comfort has its failings, where something stylish and comfortable has been destroyed by fit. Sometimes it’s simply the wrong body type wearing something stylish: skinny jeans are not for everyone, even though jeans are one of the most forgiving of pants. [If you have no ass, skinny jeans are not your friend. Be sure to wear a tunic to conceal this.]
The following is an email I sent in November 2007 to my sister detailing my attire. Perhaps the most horrifying part is that I was on the train so I must have worn this outfit to my Manhattan office, which is FILLED with stylish people.
_______________________________________
Sent: Monday, November 19, 2007 5:39:57 PM
Subject: My outfit
So I told you I am wearing way too big pants, right? I also have on a big gray cardigan and a gray shirt underneath. The cardigan is longer but is doing nothing to conceal my saggy baggy ass. Oh, and the pants have one of those latch hooks at the waistband and they are so oversized that the latch won't work. Only the fly is keeping them up. And underneath the pants I have on a pair of beat up pink undies, so if my pants fall down it won't be pretty.
To walk home from the train I brought my Merrill snow boots. They are similar to Merrill mocs, but incredibly have a wider, more unflattering toe than the low mocs. It's an unbelievably good look.
Finally, I am wearing my long puffer parka and mittens and I have 2 bags with me. So I look like a crazy, disheveled bag lady with a load in her pants. If you see me walking on the street just keep going, I'll probably be looking for soda bottles and cans worth a nickel at the redemption place.
Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.
_______________________________________
I can tell you exactly what I was wearing. The whole outfit was from BCBG. [Stylish, right?] I still have everything but the pants: I believe I unloaded them on my “grab bag” shortly after this incident. The puffer coat is a North Face parka that has a flattering cut and despite being quilted down, doesn’t add bulk and is incredibly warm. The Merrill boots…well, it was November and my walk from the train is nearly a mile and it may have already snowed. I most certainly had lovely shoes on while in the office, and I was probably toting them in one of the two bags. (Again, I’m a nice person. Please don’t judge me by my postings here.) The undies were my first pair of Hanky Pankies and I got them before Hanky Pankies became a household name. I remain a loyal devotee and I did eventually part with my first pair.
But back to the point: while all of this was stylish independently (not the Merrills, I concede) the end result was a disaster. An unsuccessful merger of style and comfort, brought on by an ill-fitting pair of pants. So what’s a girl to do when she has a major failure? As a supremely stylish person I’m sure I carried it well in the office that day. Stand tall, shoulders back, walk confidently. No one will notice the ass of your pants is way too big when your personality and smile are even bigger.
Monday, August 24, 2009
"Swingers"
These are actual emails I received from a guy I went on a lunch date with a few weeks ago. We met on a Monday and within 20 minutes of me escaping the “date” he had emailed me asking for a follow-up, an email I ignored. These emails are from the next day, Tuesday. Names have been changed to protect the innocent…and the guilty.
_______________________________________
Tuesday, 11:05 AM
Hey Marsha.
I'd love to get together again (if you want!), problem is Wed I'm working then taking sister Shera and her kids to JFK, then I am going to be gone Thurs-Sun.
Road trip: My mother wants to go to Illinois to see 1. Her brother and family (my cousins) and 2. To Kentucky to visit Gethsemani, the monestary where the famous Trappest monk Thomas Merton (who wrote my Mom's favorate book 'The Seven Storey Mountain') lived and wrote. [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Merton ] My sister DeeDee, a libriarian with summers free, and I told Mom we would take her and make a fun road trip out of it, stopping to see things like 'the world's largest ball of yarn' on the way.
I think, since my mom is getting on in years, she ought to do the things she has wanted to do, this amoung them. One lesson I learned during my father's illness is the importance of doing things on your 'list' in your 'golden years' because once your health starts to fail, life is all about doctors, hospitals medication, tests, ect..
DeeDee (sister) just found out her ankle is fractured as well as sprained, she is in a cast and can't share the driving duties. I don't mind driving for long periods, so thats fine with me, but I was looking forward to some down time in the car to read/organize. Anyway, my mom could concivably pull the plug at the last minute.
So, I enjoyed meeting you, and I'll keep in touch - (do you want updates from the road? I'm sure it will be thrilling!) I'll have sporatic access to the Internet, depending on the quality of motels we frequent, I could drop you a line by phone if you want, how best to reach you?
-Bad Date
Tuesday, 11:21 AM (16 minutes later)
Really I'm not that stupid. Please disregard the prior email typed out in a lazy stream of connsiousness string of grammar and spelling disasters. I forgot this email account, unlike my MS Outlook at work does not check first before sending. Good thing I don't use this for clients. I am going to change that setting now ...
***Corrected*** (lol):
""Hey Marsha.
I'd love to get together again (if you want!), problem is Wed I'm working then taking sister Shera and her kids to JFK, then I am going to be gone Thurs-Sun.
Road trip: My mother wants to go to Illinois to see 1. Her brother and family (my cousins) and 2. To Kentucky to visit Gethsemani, the monetary where the famous Trap pest monk Thomas Merton (who wrote my Mom's favorite book 'The Seven Storey Mountain') lived and wrote. [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Merton ] My sister DeeDee, a librarian with summers free, and I told Mom we would take her and make a fun road trip out of it, stopping to see things like 'the world's largest ball of yarn' on the way.
I think, since my mom is getting on in years, she ought to do the things she has wanted to do, this among them. One lesson I learned during my father's illness is the importance of doing things on your 'list' in your 'golden years' because once your health starts to fail, life is all about doctors, hospitals medication, tests, ect..
DeeDee (sister) just found out her ankle is fractured as well as sprained, she is in a cast and can't share the driving duties. I don't mind driving for long periods, so that’s fine with me, but I was looking forward to some down time in the car to read/organize. Anyway, my mom could conceivably pull the plug at the last minute.
So, I enjoyed meeting you, and I'll keep in touch - (do you want updates from the road? I'm sure it will be thrilling!) I'll have sporadic access to the Internet, depending on the quality of motels we frequent, I could drop you a line by phone if you want, how best to reach you?
-Bad Date
Tuesday, 11:37 AM (16 minutes later)
Also, 'spell check' on my 'Network Solutions webmail' is awful, as I reflexively hit 'change' while the stupid thing suggests:
'monetary' for 'monestary' and
'Trap pest' monk for 'Trappest'
of course if I had bothered to look...
_______________________________________
The first email was so boring I barely read it…and no one expects a casual email to be perfect. [You should see the emails I send to my sister, and she to me. Comolsona snoot, sissy?] The second email, sent a mere 16 minutes later, was just as boring and actually had typos and ridiculously bad grammar in the section where he tried to explain himself and defend his intelligence. Did he really expect me to re-read the first email to verify he had corrected the spelling and grammar? And the road trip sounds painfully boring…yet he wants to call me from the road with "thrilling" updates. Visiting the world’s largest ball of yarn with your elderly mother and a librarian does not constitute a thrilling road trip. Also, what exactly does one organize in a car?
But the real question is: once an email has been sent, how often do you go back to critique what you have just written? You do that BEFORE hitting send, right? That’s the beauty of email over voicemail – you can take all the time in the world to write, re-read and edit. Don't send two follow up emails (each 15 minutes apart) highlighting your typos and grammar. I understand the anxiety with voicemail: it's permanent so you have to be careful what you say because there are no second chances. This guy was way to overeager on EMAIL...the thought of him leaving me a voicemail fills me with horror.
It was the “do-over” concept that reminded me of the scene from the movie Swingers. If I had not already decided this guy was way too weird and desperate for me then these three emails would have sealed his fate. Here’s the scene from Swingers to refresh your memory:
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike. I met you tonight at the Dresden. I, uh, just called to say I, uh, I'm really glad we met and you should give me a call. So call me tomorrow, or, like, in two days, whatever. My number is 213-555-4679...
(beep)
Mike hangs up. Pauses for a moment. He calls again.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike, again. I just called because it sounded like your machine might've cut me off before I gave you my number, and also to say sorry for calling so late, but you were still there when I left the Dresden, so I knew I'd get your machine. Anyway, my number is...
(beep)
Mike calls back right away.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
213-555-4679. That's all. I just wanted to leave my number. I don't want you to think I'm weird, or desperate or something...
... I mean, you know, we should just hang out. That's it. No expectations. Just, you know, hang out. Bye.
(beep)
Mike hangs up. Pauses for a moment. He calls again.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leaves a message.
(beep)
MIKE
I just got out of a six-year relationship. Okay? That should help to explain why I'm acting so weird. It's not you. It's me. I just wanted to say that. Sorry.
(pause)
This is Mike.
(beep)
Mike calls back right away.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike again. Could you just call me when you get in? I'll be up for awhile, and I'd just rather talk to you in person instead of trying to squeeze it all...
(beep)
Mike calls back right away.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
Hi, Nikki. Mike. I don't think this is working out. I think you're great, but maybe we should just take some time off from each other. It's not you, really. It's me. It's only been six months...
NIKKI (In person because she picks up the phone)
Mike?
MIKE
Hey, Nikki! How’s it going?
NIKKI
Don’t ever call me again.
So ultimately I had to pull a “Nikki” on this “Mike.” But that’s a story for another day.
_______________________________________
Tuesday, 11:05 AM
Hey Marsha.
I'd love to get together again (if you want!), problem is Wed I'm working then taking sister Shera and her kids to JFK, then I am going to be gone Thurs-Sun.
Road trip: My mother wants to go to Illinois to see 1. Her brother and family (my cousins) and 2. To Kentucky to visit Gethsemani, the monestary where the famous Trappest monk Thomas Merton (who wrote my Mom's favorate book 'The Seven Storey Mountain') lived and wrote. [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Merton ] My sister DeeDee, a libriarian with summers free, and I told Mom we would take her and make a fun road trip out of it, stopping to see things like 'the world's largest ball of yarn' on the way.
I think, since my mom is getting on in years, she ought to do the things she has wanted to do, this amoung them. One lesson I learned during my father's illness is the importance of doing things on your 'list' in your 'golden years' because once your health starts to fail, life is all about doctors, hospitals medication, tests, ect..
DeeDee (sister) just found out her ankle is fractured as well as sprained, she is in a cast and can't share the driving duties. I don't mind driving for long periods, so thats fine with me, but I was looking forward to some down time in the car to read/organize. Anyway, my mom could concivably pull the plug at the last minute.
So, I enjoyed meeting you, and I'll keep in touch - (do you want updates from the road? I'm sure it will be thrilling!) I'll have sporatic access to the Internet, depending on the quality of motels we frequent, I could drop you a line by phone if you want, how best to reach you?
-Bad Date
Tuesday, 11:21 AM (16 minutes later)
Really I'm not that stupid. Please disregard the prior email typed out in a lazy stream of connsiousness string of grammar and spelling disasters. I forgot this email account, unlike my MS Outlook at work does not check first before sending. Good thing I don't use this for clients. I am going to change that setting now ...
***Corrected*** (lol):
""Hey Marsha.
I'd love to get together again (if you want!), problem is Wed I'm working then taking sister Shera and her kids to JFK, then I am going to be gone Thurs-Sun.
Road trip: My mother wants to go to Illinois to see 1. Her brother and family (my cousins) and 2. To Kentucky to visit Gethsemani, the monetary where the famous Trap pest monk Thomas Merton (who wrote my Mom's favorite book 'The Seven Storey Mountain') lived and wrote. [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Merton ] My sister DeeDee, a librarian with summers free, and I told Mom we would take her and make a fun road trip out of it, stopping to see things like 'the world's largest ball of yarn' on the way.
I think, since my mom is getting on in years, she ought to do the things she has wanted to do, this among them. One lesson I learned during my father's illness is the importance of doing things on your 'list' in your 'golden years' because once your health starts to fail, life is all about doctors, hospitals medication, tests, ect..
DeeDee (sister) just found out her ankle is fractured as well as sprained, she is in a cast and can't share the driving duties. I don't mind driving for long periods, so that’s fine with me, but I was looking forward to some down time in the car to read/organize. Anyway, my mom could conceivably pull the plug at the last minute.
So, I enjoyed meeting you, and I'll keep in touch - (do you want updates from the road? I'm sure it will be thrilling!) I'll have sporadic access to the Internet, depending on the quality of motels we frequent, I could drop you a line by phone if you want, how best to reach you?
-Bad Date
Tuesday, 11:37 AM (16 minutes later)
Also, 'spell check' on my 'Network Solutions webmail' is awful, as I reflexively hit 'change' while the stupid thing suggests:
'monetary' for 'monestary' and
'Trap pest' monk for 'Trappest'
of course if I had bothered to look...
_______________________________________
The first email was so boring I barely read it…and no one expects a casual email to be perfect. [You should see the emails I send to my sister, and she to me. Comolsona snoot, sissy?] The second email, sent a mere 16 minutes later, was just as boring and actually had typos and ridiculously bad grammar in the section where he tried to explain himself and defend his intelligence. Did he really expect me to re-read the first email to verify he had corrected the spelling and grammar? And the road trip sounds painfully boring…yet he wants to call me from the road with "thrilling" updates. Visiting the world’s largest ball of yarn with your elderly mother and a librarian does not constitute a thrilling road trip. Also, what exactly does one organize in a car?
But the real question is: once an email has been sent, how often do you go back to critique what you have just written? You do that BEFORE hitting send, right? That’s the beauty of email over voicemail – you can take all the time in the world to write, re-read and edit. Don't send two follow up emails (each 15 minutes apart) highlighting your typos and grammar. I understand the anxiety with voicemail: it's permanent so you have to be careful what you say because there are no second chances. This guy was way to overeager on EMAIL...the thought of him leaving me a voicemail fills me with horror.
It was the “do-over” concept that reminded me of the scene from the movie Swingers. If I had not already decided this guy was way too weird and desperate for me then these three emails would have sealed his fate. Here’s the scene from Swingers to refresh your memory:
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike. I met you tonight at the Dresden. I, uh, just called to say I, uh, I'm really glad we met and you should give me a call. So call me tomorrow, or, like, in two days, whatever. My number is 213-555-4679...
(beep)
Mike hangs up. Pauses for a moment. He calls again.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike, again. I just called because it sounded like your machine might've cut me off before I gave you my number, and also to say sorry for calling so late, but you were still there when I left the Dresden, so I knew I'd get your machine. Anyway, my number is...
(beep)
Mike calls back right away.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
213-555-4679. That's all. I just wanted to leave my number. I don't want you to think I'm weird, or desperate or something...
... I mean, you know, we should just hang out. That's it. No expectations. Just, you know, hang out. Bye.
(beep)
Mike hangs up. Pauses for a moment. He calls again.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leaves a message.
(beep)
MIKE
I just got out of a six-year relationship. Okay? That should help to explain why I'm acting so weird. It's not you. It's me. I just wanted to say that. Sorry.
(pause)
This is Mike.
(beep)
Mike calls back right away.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike again. Could you just call me when you get in? I'll be up for awhile, and I'd just rather talk to you in person instead of trying to squeeze it all...
(beep)
Mike calls back right away.
NIKKI’S ANSWERING MACHINE
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)
MIKE
Hi, Nikki. Mike. I don't think this is working out. I think you're great, but maybe we should just take some time off from each other. It's not you, really. It's me. It's only been six months...
NIKKI (In person because she picks up the phone)
Mike?
MIKE
Hey, Nikki! How’s it going?
NIKKI
Don’t ever call me again.
So ultimately I had to pull a “Nikki” on this “Mike.” But that’s a story for another day.
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