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it’s not just some patient. You meet with them, you diagnose them, you give them the news, you give them their options. By the time you get around to doing surgery, you actually know this guy pretty well. He’s not just a dummy. He’s got a personality, and a family, and sometimes even a sense of humor about it all. He’s someone you care about. I mean it doesn’t take that long to get to like a person, when they’re cool. Look at us? We’ve only known each other a few hours, and I would hate it if you died right now.” I laugh. “Especially if it was under my knife,” he adds.
    “Let’s hope it doesn’t lead to that!” I joke, referring to the ridiculously large number of couples who kill their mates because they’re too chicken shit to just break up, like a normal person. As always, he gets my joke.
    “I guess the risk of it all just seemed more worthwhile when I had a family to support,” he goes on. “I mean, it was just a wife, but still, I liked having someone to reap the rewards with. To do all that fun stuff with… or for. I wish I could have that again, because right now, it’s just empty money at great potential risk.”
    I am loving how committal he is!
    “Well, maybe I could help you out with some of that reward reaping stuff?” Did that sound too forward? “I mean, purely as a means of giving your life meaning,” I add, only half-joking, and mostly hoping he’ll bite.
    “Really? You would do that for me?” he teases. “I’ll bet you’d even let me take you out to dinner and everything!”
    “Yes, but only if it was gonna make you feel better about yourself.”
“That is so charitable of you, Samantha! I feel like a Make-a-Wish kid right now, whose every dream is coming true!” We share a nice laugh. “You know what else you could do to give my life meaning? Go salsa dancing with me. Do you salsa?”
    “Yes!” I reply, before realizing that I don’t. I love to dance, and I’m looking for someone who wants to dance with me, but I’ve never actually done salsa dancing. I quickly correct my mistake, “I mean, no, but I’ve been dying to learn. I love dancing!”
    One thing I’m not sure he has figured out yet is that I would do pretty much anything, if it means I get to do it with him.
    “And what about backpacking? Do you like roughing it?”
    Do I? Well, if he’s there…
    “I’ll try anything once!—I mean, not anything —“ I hope he knows right now that I’m referring to anal sex. Best not to be too clear about that, though, because I’ve found that it’s never a good idea for a woman to be the first one to bring up sex of any kind. Once the topic is on the table, guys seem to be able to think of nothing else, and before you know it, all his desire to get to know you goes right out the window. If you don’t trust me on this one, just bring up your boobs the next time you’re having a nice conversation with a man.
    “But stuff like, I love hiking and camping,” I continue, “so—yeah, sure, I must like backpacking, too, right? I'll totally do that with you.” Ooh, was that too obvious? I’ve got to work on my subtlety skills. I am not being very demure right now.
    He doesn’t notice, though, because it seems we’ve arrived.
    “Here it is. My favorite place in San Francisco.”
    His favorite place is the top of Alamo Square Park. Even if you’ve never been to San Francisco, you would probably recognize a picture of its view. It overlooks that row of famous Victorian houses that are called “The Seven Sisters” or “The Painted Ladies” or “Postcard Row” or “those cool houses from the opening credits of Full House ”.
    “You can see everything from here!” John explains enthusiastically. “See the downtown skyline, and the top of the Bay Bridge? And that way is a piece of the Golden Gate Bridge,” he says, swinging me around excitedly, “and Twin Peaks over there! On a clear night like tonight, you can see it all!” It’s beautiful.