Date Disastrously Bypasses Physical Intimacy, Goes Straight To Emotional Intimacy

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Vol 41 Issue 22

Description Of Hot-Dog Ingredients Fails To Ruin Picnic

EVERETT, WA—Try as he might, Matt Cottone was unable to spoil appetites at Jack Pierson's Memorial Day picnic. "The absolute worst meat goes into hot dogs—animal parts that oughta be thrown away—and then they pump it full of nitrates and sodium and dyes," Cottone said as his friends eagerly devoured Oscar Mayer franks. "You might as well be drinking embalming fluid. How can you do that to your body?" After explaining that the meat in hot dogs comes from "cheeks and asses" several times to no effect, Cottone grimaced at the plate of hot dogs and wandered off toward the beer cooler.

Local Pet Store Sells Living Things To Just Anyone Off The Street

BALTIMORE—The Fur, Fin, and Feather pet store is willing to sell live animals to just about anyone, local investigating police officer Tom Olansky reported Monday. "Any bozo off the street can walk into this joint with a few bucks and walk out with an actual living, breathing creature," Olansky said. "There's no test to ensure a minimal aptitude for pet ownership, no background check, no follow-up." Store owner Geordi Wilson admitted that a customer "doesn't necessarily need a lot of time or money to own a pet, just a big heart."

Horoscope for the week of June 1, 2005

Your friends will soon hold an intervention to take away your barge pole, wide-brimmed white straw hat, and Chianti bottle in an effort to stop your wanton and dangerous gondoliering.

The Stem-Cell Bill

The House recently passed a bill lifting restrictions on stem-cell research, but Bush has threatened to veto the bill if it passes the Senate. What do you think?

This Script Practically Writes, Directs, And Universally Pans Itself

Find yourself a chair, guys, 'cause I've got exactly what we've been looking for: an idea so formulaic, any screenwriting hack could knock it out with his eyes closed. A film so predictable, we could produce it with our Blackberries turned off. Everybody who sees it, critics and audiences alike, will be guaranteed to hate it. Is everybody on this conference call sitting down? Here we go: Van Helsing Reborn! I'm telling you, this script will practically write, direct, and universally pan itself!

If It's Any Consolation, Your Daughter Probably Died Almost Immediately Of Sheer Terror

Mr. and Mrs. Frauenfelder? Yes, hello. Thank you for coming down today. I'm Detective Cosloy, one of the eight men here in Tulsa who found the body. The three men in Fort Worth who found the balance of the remains have air-messaged them, so they should be here by this afternoon. I know how difficult this must be for you, and I want to assure you that the department will do all that it can to make this experience—I'm sorry, of course it's... Come this way, won't you? I don't want to draw this out, so if you'd care to identify the remains?

Judge Hatchett Ruling Overturned By Judge Joe Brown

HOLLYWOOD—Nationally syndicated justice Judge Joe Brown reversed Judge Glenda Hatchett's ruling in the TV-court case Amanda Robinson v. Maria Bristow Monday, stating that the lower-rated judge flagrantly disregarded pertinent testimony.

May 29, 1993

Uneducated Forklift Driver To Address Nation On Rush Limbaugh Radio Show
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Date Disastrously Bypasses Physical Intimacy, Goes Straight To Emotional Intimacy

CHAPEL HILL, NC—An initially promising date between University of North Carolina seniors Mike Rafelson and Jill Zehme veered disastrously off course Monday night, when the two skipped directly to intense emotional bonding, tragically bypassing the physical intimacy that usually precedes it.

Zehme and Rafelson share a close moment.

"It's not what you think—unfortunately," Rafelson told his roommates Tuesday morning after they watched him send Zehme off with a long, tight goodbye hug and an affectionate kiss on the forehead. "The date was going great—I could feel us getting closer and closer all night. I was totally psyched when she came home with me. But somehow I screwed up, and we ended up sharing our most personal thoughts and feelings without even making out first."

Rafelson said he and Zehme met two weeks ago at Raleigh's Schoolkids Records, where they spent 20 minutes wandering past each other while pretending to look at vintage LPs, self-consciously brushing bangs back from their foreheads, and stealing glances at each other over the display racks.

Rafelson said he "finally made a move" and asked Zehme about the album she was holding, Talking Heads: 77. In the 20-minute discussion that followed, Zehme not only told Rafelson how important the album had been to her during a troubling time in her adolescence, but that she worked at a local coffeehouse.

"She went out of her way to describe the location of the Buzz Café and the hours she usually works," Rafelson said. "I was, like, 'Yeah! This is it, man—she totally likes me and I'm gonna get some action.' Unfortunately, I was only half right—and it was the wrong half."

After he "happened to swing by" Buzz Café, Rafelson asked Zehme if she would like to see his friend's band, Chat!, thus launching the pair's ill-fated journey to non-physical intimacy.

"When I picked her up, she looked really hot," Rafelson said. "After the show, we went to get some pizza, and our feet were touching under the table the whole time we ate. We talked for a long time about the trouble she was having finishing up her major, and I could totally relate. Everything seemed to be progressing so nicely. Well, I didn't know it at the time, but the feet thing was the closest physical contact we were going to share."

At 12:30 a.m., as the couple walked to Rafelson's place, their conversation grew more personal. Rafelson talked about his last girlfriend, and Zehme discussed her financial problems. At his door, Rafelson said his roommates would not be home until later, and to his delight, Zehme agreed to come inside. Rafelson opened a bottle of wine, and the two sat talking and drinking in the living room for an hour before relocating to the bedroom.

The bedroom, Zehme later told friends, is where she and Rafelson "started to open up about just everything."

"From the moment I laid eyes on Mike, he seemed like the kind of guy I could really get close to," Zehme said. "He had such a sincere way about him—a face I could totally trust."

Rafelson said it seemed that, given the circumstances, some form of sexual bonding was assured. As he and Zehme continued to talk, they spoke more passionately, their faces got closer together, and they began to stare intently into each other's eyes.

"The intimacy in the room had worked its way to a fever pitch," Rafelson said. "But before I realized what was happening, disaster struck."

Instead of stroking her date's thigh or taking off her shirt, Zehme began to tell Rafelson things she'd "never told anyone outside of [her] closest confidants."

"I told Mike all my innermost feelings about my parents' traumatic divorce, my brother's drug problem, and my best friend's attempted suicide," Zehme said. "He was so sweet—he took my hand and told me to let it all out. And I did. I just let it all go. I was totally uninhibited that night. I've never been like that with anyone before."

Two and a half hours later, the couple was firmly in the area that couples therapist Gus French described as "that awful horse latitude of male-female relations, the Sargasso Sea of non-sexual pair-bonding known to unhappy males the world over as 'the friend zone.'"

"My heart really goes out to this poor kid," French said. "We've all been there, thinking, 'Gee, this is really special that you're opening up to me about your childhood, but I've got to admit I'd rather be going down on you right now.' Unfortunately, once the emotional barrier has been crossed, there's no going back. By allowing the conversation to swerve into serious-talking territory before physical contact was established, Rafelson virtually guaranteed that he would not get into Zehme's pants."

Rafelson corroborated French's prediction.

"Jill said our date was one of the most special nights of her life," Rafelson said. "We talked long into the night until we fell asleep side by side—fully dressed. In the morning, before leaving, she gave me a huge, sincere, and utterly asexual hug—exactly the kind of hug someone would give her brother."

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