Not All Hotels Are Romantic

Monday night Jack calls me and tells me he's coming over and that we're going to have a romantic evening at my place. "I have a set" I said. "After your set. I miss you," he replied. These last couple of weeks have been crazy for both of us and we haven't gotten to spend alot of time together. That's how relationships roll in New York City. Ambition and obligations can the time you should be spending with your love.

We meet up at my apartment. Jack brought a movie and suggested we curl up on the couch together and watch. Sounds great. This is going to be a lovely evening together. Until he begins the movie--Hotel Rwanda. "Jack, this isn't romantic."
"I think as couple we should put or own egos aside and realize their are those who truly suffer."
"Sure, but that's not romantic."
"We'll see. Let's watch."
I have to admit sitting on the couch next Jack, crying and feeling disgust for the world I inhabit really wasn't romantic at all! I kind of felt like I should never have kids. And, that I should break up with Jack in the off chance maniacs begin a genocidal campaign here I don't have any strings tieing me down. Or have Jack holding me back from a swift escape.

The movie is very good, but I wouldn't reccommend it for a date.