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In love and war, it’s the declaration that counts

On the evening of Christmas Day, after my sister and brother-in-law had taken their kids home and I’d finished helping Mom clean up the dining room and kitchen, I left my parents’ house in the ‘burbs and returned downtown to attend a gathering at Deenster’s and Chris’ place. Among the attendees was my friend (and former OpenCola coworker) Kate, and I was telling her about The Redhead’s upcoming visit.

Me: The night she visits, we’re going to Kalendar and then go catch a movie.

Kate: Which one?

Me: I think we’ll go see Big Fish. We’re both interested in seeing it, and it looks promising.

Kate: Tim Burton’s usually a pretty good bet. Dinner and a movie, wow!

Me: Maybe even a cocktail at Lobby afterwards. At any rate, it’ll be a proper date. Even though nobody seems to actually date anymore, I’m still a big fan. I remember reading an article about how “hanging out” or “hooking up” has replaced dating, but I like dating better.

Kate: So do I.

Rich: So what makes a date a date, say rather than going out with a bunch of friends?

Kate: You have to call it a date.

Me: Yeah, I think you actually have to say “I would like to go out with you on a date.”

Rich: So it’s the declaration that makes it a date?

Kate: Yes. It’s like the military. You have to declare a war, otherwise it’s just a police action.

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