Dresses are nice, but I prefer pants in winter.
"Will I ever" is a tricky thing to specifically answer... I mean we may meet some day in the future, I'll forget I had denied you and we'll start talking. You'll take a glance in to my eyes, comment that the way they change in the light is enchanting... I'll look back to you, a hand gracing your arm. Your muscles so defined, such charming comments, could I deny you then? We could move on to dinner, you'd respect my wishes to avoid alcohol, maybe you would choose something non-alcoholic for yourself, to show that you agree with me, at least for now. The meal is nice, and you prove to be an impressive conversationalist, but I fear you may be my intellectual inferior... until you change our direction, moving in to a deep discussion on the meaning of life, a question I feel I have already an answer. We argue, my ideals far too pure for this world we live in, but then as I am about to shout, to scream at your mad ideas, you reach acr-
Sorry, what was the question? I forgot.