Reading all the paeans and homilies and homages to the date is an experience most akin to attending an odd-year high school reunion; it is neither quite so well-attended nor nearly as nostalgic as you imagined; there’s no one at the bar; the cater waiters won’t flirt–worse, they’re older than you are! In the corner, some former cheerleader cries mawkishly into her Long Island; above the airport hotel ballroom, planes rumble indifferently into the night sky; on the far side of the world, a stock exchange opens; “the dog misses you,” says your lover over the phone, “I miss you. How’s the reunion?”; “I wish I’d never come”; “I told you so.”