S.W.A.K

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Dating is hard. And that's coming from a guy who once hooked up a refurbished Soviet-era NK-43 rocket engine to his dad's crummy Oldsmobile 88 with nothing but a Handyman toolkit and a vat of orange soda. Girls are different. There are no equations or blueprints to get them to like you.

And there's a certain void that even quantum mechanics and the latest tech toys can't fill. Why am I waxing and waning about love? That foot-popping kiss from the Golden Glider last week (yeah, that happened) made me realize that sure, I get to hangout and kick-ass with a bonafide superhero, but what is a life of daring heroics without the opportunity to get a little romantical on the side?

Every other Friday night, while all the Romeos are out with their Juliets, CC Jitters hosts "An Espresso Shot at Love." Basically, speed dating. I know, I know - totally lame, right? But the thought of kicking off yet another weekend watching reruns of Xena: Warrior Princess made me throw on a bowtie, pop a breath mint, and slap on a nametag.

When I got there, the ladies were already stationed at tables scattered around the room, doing some last minute primping and not-so-subtle-selfie-checks with their phones. There was a solid age distribution - everything from the college freshies to the middle-aged cougars. I had prepped my game with the latest issue of Cosmo (and those hair care tips are on point) so I was feeling pretty good by the time I plopped down across from Olivia, a super cute philosophy major at Hudson U.

Things started off great - she laughed at my Christopher Walken impression, she puts strawberry jelly on her PB&J (none of that grape nonsense!), and she totally dug my time-is-relative wristwatch. The pheromones were shooting between us like fireworks. But when she touched my hand with her French-manicured fingers, something happened...

All of a sudden I was no longer making goo-goo eyes at a potential mate - I was staring into a terrifying row of dagger-like teeth. My heart starting hammering, I broke out in a cold sweat, and there's a high probability that I screamed like a little girl. What the hell was that? A monster? A meta? I tried to get my wits, but the vision swam and I was back at Jitters, the bell was dinging, and some overeager lothario was shoving me out of my seat so he could take a shot at Olivia.

I had to get out of there. I had to figure out what the heck I just saw. Guess my love life will be DOA for the foreseeable future until I can figure out what's going on with my brain - I just wish it wouldn't mess with matters of the heart!

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