The
hardest thing about dating someone
new is remembering what side of the airport "arrival" curb that person stands and waits and whistles for you on.
And by "new", I mean "almost five years, and I'm a self-absorbed dork with the short and/or long-term memory of a salad fork".
And by "hardest thing", we're of course subtracting anything involving sexual relations.
Wait, no we're not.
The moral, you ask? You may be fifty apologetic minutes late getting picked up from the airport, but you're with a different apologetic woman every night.
