Let me tell you a story... Back in my younger days, when I was full of vinegar and ready to take on the earth and maybe a couple of other planets, I seemed to be quite the ladies man. One beautiful spring afternoon when love and pollen and pet dander and other harmful things were floating on a breeze, I literally ran into a beautiful girl named Kate. I almost knocked her down, and she was a knock out. Red hair, fair skin, Irish passion... The works!!! I wooed her, and of course she was overcome quickly by my rapier wit and charming personality. (Not to mention that I had the body of a greek god... most likely Bacchus.) We fell madly and deeply in love. Everything was great. I was intoxicated by love and springtime and poetry and chick flicks and puppies and BAM!!! Monkey wrench. While riding the bus one stormy day in may, a passenger like no other boarded at the stop on love street. Her name was Edith. She had dark hair and blue eyes (a rare and exotic combonation) and was soaked to the skin. I, being the gentleman that I am offered her my coat to help stop her shivering. When I wrapped it around her trembling shoulders and she looked into my eyes... Well, you know. We fell madly and deeply in love. Deja Vu... I was intoxicated by love and springtime and poetry and chick flicks and puppies and WAIT A MINUTE! I already have a girlfriend! I must say right now that I truly did love both girls. This made my life a living hell. Of course, like any other red-blooded American lad I wanted the best of both worlds, so I made the decision to keep both of them for my own. I made schedules. I took precautions. I initiated careful and meticulous planning to keep them from finding out about each other. I failed miserably. Of course, in my arrogance, the fateful day came. I called Edith when I was supposed to be calling Kate. Chaos ensued. I finally had to confess, to both, of my duplicity. To my horror, they insisted upon meeting each other. Whoever coined the phrase "hell hath no fury like a worman scorned" was a wise man. That day I learned what pain is. That day I knew what shame meant. That day I realized: You can't have your Kate and Edith too. I'll be here all week. Thank you and good night.
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