Hi friends, for the next two weeks of episodes, the poet Shira Ehrlichman will be back in the

host chair, I'll return on October 30th.

I'm Major Jackson, and this is The Slowdown.

For years, I've been collecting first date stories.

They make for great scenes and comedies, but nothing compares to the anxiety a real-life

romantic could buy.

It's been many years for me.

But in stories told by younger friends and students, that end of the day parting is

still embarrassing and fraught, especially when the evening reached its apex long before

the appetizers arrived.

Is there any situation more vulnerable for potential amorous partners?

Then that moment, ending an evening of performative first impressions?

Personally, I've experienced everything from a soft kiss to awkward hugs, to clammy handshakes,

to goodbyes from the driver's seat, followed by screeching tires, which is the equivalent

of, don't call us, and we'll never call you.

But then, occasionally, the dreaded decision to wave goodbye, shake hands, hug, or kiss,

isn't to an invitation to stretch the evening longer, maybe to a nearby all night diner,

or an ice cream parlor, or nightcap at a piano bar, or on a couch watching a movie.

Today's poem reveals that often more is in the cards when we pause and sit still in

the ease and comfort of someone new.

Did you want to come in by temperance aga-mahamadi?

Stepping out of, he presses the ticket-stub in my hand, mouth still liquorish and buttered,

...