I was walking with Lisa up a residential street when we happened upon a picnic. The picnic consisted of a small towel on the narrow strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street. A man and a woman were holding tiny martini glasses, and there was a shaker up against the tree. There was no food in sight. Lisa and I refrained from laughing.

Lisa said, “Do you think it’s a match thing?”

I looked back at the couple, “Match?”

Lisa said, “Match.com.”

“Oh, right.”

I thought for a minute. A picnic like that would be cute if you lived in a city with no parks or open space, but two blocks from the Palisades Park was pathetic.

Lisa laughed, “Yeah, the guy probably suggested the picnic for the date in lieu of meeting for coffee. The girl agreed to it, even though she was thinking ‘yuck.’

I was trying to figure out how he even came up with the idea. It’s not like one of his girl friends suggested it. Then I remembered.

“He probably read that article in the LA Times last weekend about picnic baskets!”

Lisa said, “I’m sure the article didn’t suggest picnicking on the street. Martha Stewart would have a heart attack.”

“They both looked really uncomfortable,” I said.

Hopefully, I will never attract a guy who would consider that a date--or remotely romantic.