A sign was posted at the front door:
G.O.B. Bluth Presents:
Three Minute Dates at Caritas
hosted by A Matchmaker Named G.O.B.
That's right. It was time for Three Minute Dates once again. Of course, this time it was being pushed back a couple hours because GOB just posted bail in Lexington Park for solicitation last night so it could better help
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Feel free to get sloshed before 8:00!
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Still, once Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne entered an event, he was going to stick around for it, appearing to drink. Tino was going to get a good tip to keep the ginger ale flowing.
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"You seem like the dating type," Chuck noted, as he took a stool near Bruce. "You don't happen to have any foolproof advice, do you?" It was worth asking. All he'd got before was 'be yourself', but himself was a flaily nerd and that wasn't generally a hit with the ladiez.
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'Be yourself' was good advice, too, but Bruce had no business giving it.
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He might not be. She might just be that bad at socializing.
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...It would probably be a three minute apology, yes.
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Something about her body and covering up her death. Which might explain why she woke up with a sombrero, in the dorms, with a very stiff neck.
"... So ..."
This would be good.
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"Well, that answers question number one: girl Alex or boy Alex," she said with a grin.
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Brunettes in leather or whatever she was wearing no modding honest. It was like catnip. She was going to behave, honest.
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