Boy and Girl meet for the third time in a group of mutual friends. Palpable chemistry. He's tall. She loves that. He's a little sarcastic. She fires right back.
"So," she asks, "What are you doing for the Super Bowl?"
"I'll probably get a lot of food and eat it at my place," he answers, new and lonely in the city. "Want to come over?" She should've said yes. But she was lame instead.
"Dude! Come out with us!"
"Well, I don't have any of your contact info."
"I don't have yours." Pregnant pause.
Well, ask for it, you dummy. "Why don't you ask for it?" Whoops. She should've been nicer.
"Because I don't do that."
"Well, maybe you should make a little effort."
"I should, huh?"
Maybe it was supposed to be a joke, but she'd been burned in the beginning way too many times to waste breath on a Boy and not a Man. He left the bar that night, still without any of her info.
Cut to the next night... Girl lazing on Friend's couch. Late. Sans makeup. Text message... unknown number.
"What up sunshine, this is Boy. What are you up to tonight?" Blood rushes to her cheeks.
"Hi! I'm actually being super lame and going home soon."
"That is lame. So when can I see you? This is me making that effort that you talked about."
This is the story of how one tiny word creeps into Girl's psyche, curls up in her brain, and hibernates for all eternity...
Effort. And it made all the difference.