Sunday, September 11

I'm pretty sure chivalry is dead because people like me killed it.

I accompanied a fellow to a wedding reception last night. After he introduced us to part of the family, the father of the bride shook his head and repeated my name a few times before lifting my hand to kiss it.

Here's the thing: I love me some classy times. This reception had jazz music and toasts and blue raspberry saltwater taffy.
But it may or may not be obvious at this point that I am not a romantic... (even having the car door opened for me makes my teeth chatter). An exchange of this caliber, though, is a prime example of many other similar situations that just make me uncomfortable to the point where I have no other choice but to create an awkwardness so pervasive that it effectively kills all the lovely moments.

Regardless, I was so unbelievably flattered and couldn't help but think that this "enchanté" hand-kissing business does not happen enough anymore.