From a NYT story today about dating, apartments and deal breakers. Something of a horrifying experience, I’d say:
“The second experience involved an artist who lived in an East Village tenement. As he entered her apartment, a free-flying parrot relieved itself on his head. Then a large rabbit darted out from somewhere and licked his feet. A baby gate separated a second rabbit from the first — there had been a nasty penis-biting episode, his date explained. Also, the kitchen wall was covered with antique egg beaters, which looked to Mr. Heindl like weird tools.”
And yet not only did it work out…but now they have a nine-month-old daughter and they live in my neighborhood…
The story continues with Mr. Heindl explaining how a deal breaker turned into marriage:
“I seriously thought, ‘Shall I run? No, I like her, I like her, I’ll check it out,’ ” he says. “I thought about it, I asked myself, ‘Why are you doing this?’ and I decided it showed she can really nurture, because one was like a really old rabbit, a geriatric rabbit. And she baked, obviously.” (Italics mine.)
So…I think this means there’s hope for me yet. All I have is an obese cat. And he has never pooped on anyone.