Dr. Asparagus and Mr. Bland

Dr. Asparagus was the first Not-Horatio I met on OK Cupid. His opening email was articulate, intelligent, devoid of any of the reviled cave-man internet jargon:

Hurrattio: omg u r hawt LOL wassup. Hurratio.

Me: [delete]

Also, Dr. Asparagus was funny. I mean, the dude successfully pulled off some witty banter about tapeworms. There was also some mention of ninjas and zombies and a world domination plot involving the Cadbury Fruit & Nut bar. FUNNY. And when I informed him that he was the first Not-Horatio I'd met on OK Cupid, he demanded to know what he'd won as a Not-Horatio Prize. I told him he'd won asparagus. Obviously. His response was wildly enthusiastic. Obviously.

If you're ever looking for a gift box that will hold a bunch of asparagus, you are a fool to head to the dollar store. A FOOL. You will roam the isles hither and yon, and you will see a multitude of gift boxes in a variety of shapes and sizes. None of these boxes will hold an intact bunch of asparagus, and you will fritter away your pre-date lunch hour trying to obtain help from clerks* who are unable to help because (1) they are carrying on an in-depth cell phone conversation about That Bastard who refuses to pay child support, or (2) they are unsure what you mean when you say "gift box" and therefore direct you repeatedly to the wrapping paper isle.

Michaels is your store for asparagus gift boxes. And as a bonus, you'll find matching ribbon and tissue paper with which to elegantly bundle and wrap your asparagus. I went with green asparagus (did you know the white stuff costs about triple? What a scam.) I'm not going to lie to you, internet: it's entirely possible that this box of asparagus was the most attractive first-date spoof gift ever.

Flash forward to Insomnia Cafe, 8 pm. The man I assume to be Dr. Asparagus arrives, sits down and blinks across the table at me. Only it ISN'T DOCTOR ASPARAGUS. It's his non-evil, non-diabolical personality-devoid twin, Mr. Bland:

Me: So, how was your day?

Mr. Bland: My day was good. *blink, blink*

Me: Great. What did you get up to?

Mr. B: Work. *blink*

Me: Ah, yes. Me too. What is it that you do?

Mr. B: Consulting *blink, blink*

Me: Oh, okay. Management consulting? O...

Mr. B: Yes. *blink*

Me: And what's that like?

Mr. B: It's good.

Me: ...?

Mr. B: *blink*... *blink, blink*

Me: Oh! I've brought you something! [fishes Asparagus Box out of bag]

Mr. B: Thanks. [blinks at the box with consternation, does not touch it]

Me: Oh... no. It's nothing fancy. It's just a joke. You should open it!

Mr. B: [opens the box cautiously] Oh. You actually bought me asparagus.

Me: Well yes. It's your Not-Horatio prize... remember how I'd told you that your prize was asparagus? Uh... it's just a joke.

Mr. B: Okay. I do like asparagus. Thank you.

Waiter: Are you two ready to order drinks?

Me: YES WE ARE.

I would provide a further transcript the conversation that transpired during the time it took me to down one vodka martini, but it hardly seems worth the effort. T and A have postulated that Dr. Asparagus spent hours composing his notes to me, but wasn't able to pull off anything spontaneous when confronted with a real live woman. I like to imagine that Mr. Bland hired someone else to send those emails. Perhaps that guy would be interested in meeting me for a drink?

* Do dollar store clerks work on commission? This would surely explain their global unwillingness to help you sift through the crap on display for the single item of cheap kitsch you're there to purchase.