"Lotta couples come into the Pie Hole. I've had plenty of opportunity to take notes." Which is true, in one way, but it's also not the whole truth. Now that the whole date foundation has been established, Ned feels as if a weight has been taken off his shoulders. He admits, "I've had girlfriends, now and then, but... it never really worked out." He smiles again, bright and shy and lopsided.

"I'll go get that drink," he says, because he needs a moment to get a grip of himself, to get over that flustered feeling. Ned goes to the bar, thinks he can feel Ginsberg watching him as he goes, but he doesn't look over his shoulder to check. A few quick words to the bartender and he's coming back with two identical glasses of dark red liquid.

"Sounded good," he says, giving Ginsberg his and resuming his seat. There's a faint blush on his cheeks that doesn't seem to want to go away, but he resolutely ignores it, asks, "So who set up the blind date?"