A woman answers her door and meets her blind date, Larry.
WOMAN: Hi, you must be–
LARRY: Look, before you develop a whole big list of expectations from me, let me just spell out how it is. This is what I wear, nothing imported, that’s fine! Because I’m not a professional male model. I’m also not a doctor, not a lawyer, not a banker, not a CPA. I am a salesperson at a record store. Therefore, if you want to go out with me, we will not be going to any restaurant which refers to itself as a “bistro,” a “casa,” a “maison.” We will be going to McDonald’s. Afterwards, we’ll catch a movie, not a play, not the opera, not the symphony, not the ballet; it’ll be me, McDonalds, movie… think it over, I’ll be out in my car. My plain old, just “fine” car.
After this amazing tirade, LARRY turns and walks away.
WOMAN: Larry? McDonald’s and a movie . . . sounds great!
“Happy” music punctuates the moment as they walk to his car.
LARRY: Well, just so you know, it’s just a date! Not a commitment, not a proposal . . . just a date.
(Don’t forget to catch the writer’s hilarious writeup of why the woman was so accomodating here).