Hopefully Romantic

"Can I ask you a question?"
     
Sighing mentally, I look at the guy sitting next to me.  What I want to say: "Can I stop you?"  What I actually say, with a smile: "Of course."
     
He twists in his barstool to angle himself closer to me.  "I heard that guy say you're a romance author, so you're probably tuned into what women want."
     
I nod.  "Ironically, I'm also a woman."
     
"There is that."  He leans in closer.  "I have this fear that women think men are wimps."
     
Pursing my lips, I take all of two seconds to reply.  "Yeah, pretty much."
     
"I knew it."  He smacks the bar countertop.  "See, I've had this suspicion all along, but no one ever confirmed it for me."
     
"I'm happy to help."  I smile and start to return to my notebook.     
     
He grabs my arm, preventing me from turning.  "Is it all hopeless?"
      
Taken aback by his passion, I blink.  "Hopeless?"
     
"The whole man-woman thing."  He waves a hand.  "Are we men screwed from the beginning?"
     
Frowning, I ponder this for about ten seconds.  Then I shake my head.  "I'm a romance writer.  Of course I'm not going to believe it's hopeless.  But men need to step up.  They need to go for what they want.  And they need to understand that romance is important to a woman.  It's a lost art.  I've been on countless dates over the past couple months, and only one of those guys made an effort to romance me."
     
"Romance.  Lost art.  Got it."  He taps his chin.
     
I tip my head.  "Do you want some paper to take notes?"
     
"No.  But I may need refresher."  He smiles—hopefully.  "Maybe over dinner tomorrow?"