I: New In Town
I don't know what came over me. I'd done it before, and it had never amounted to anything good. I'd come to the conclusion that I was the sort of guy who just shouldn't use personal ads. 
Yet there I was, logging in to PalNet, clicking my way through page after page of picture-perfect people looking for hot dates, nights of fun and adventure, soul mates, and all that other stuff I'd never been able to provide. It was thoroughly depressing, and yet I kept coming back for more. 
I was about to give up and raid the liquor cabinet - again - when one ad at the corner of the screen caught my eye. This one showed a couple - a man and a woman, both striped skunks - and if he was an enviable tower of masculinity and she slimly gorgeous, they were dressed in well-kept, everyday clothes, not the provocative numbers worn by the women(they were all women) in the few other pair pictures. There wasn't much reference, but going by their builds, I figured him a bit over six feet, her about five nine, to my own five feet, seven inches. 
If the picture had hooked my attention, the text reeled it right in: 
NEW IN TOWN - Relaxed, easygoing couple seeking a local person to show them around a little. Low-pressure, varied tastes, sure to find something in common to enjoy. Daxter Ave, Pt Hampton. Reply by PalNote. 
Daxter Avenue - that was a fairly short one, fairly new. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes walk for me, depending on where along the road they were. It was a nicer neighbourhood than where my town house was, too. I wondered if they'd mind playing host - assuming a plain little tiger like me wouldn't lower their property value just by walking on the lot. 
The ad had been up for a week. Someone must've responded by now... but wait, it had just been renewed that day. And between the location and the low-key nature of the ad, I was unlikely to ever find a better chance to meet some new people. 
So I sent a note to the user "sam_stripes", saying I was interested, and would they like to meet me at one of the better pubs nearby in a few days? 
And, conscience appeased, I went to get that drink after all. 
I hadn't expected anything to come of it, so I almost snorted good Scotch all over the keyboard when I came back to find a new e-mail waiting for me - one from PalNet's account notification system, detailing a reply to "Re: NEW IN TOWN". 
Hi, Tim, 
Thanks so much for answering our ad! Your timing couldn't have been better - we actually spent last week tied up in all kinds of administrivia and only just managed to get it behind us. Going out for a relaxing drink and dinner sounds like a great idea - are you free tomorrow at, say, six thirty? Reply by e-mail. 
Cheers, S&S 
S&S. I'd been wondering which one was Sam. The email name - knighterrant - didn't offer any more clues either. Maybe it was both? That could get a bit confusing. 
Six thirty, though. I usually got home from work at or before five thirty, and the place I had in mind was about ten minutes away on foot. That, I figured, would leave plenty of time to freshen up - and with it being only tomorrow, hopefully not enough time to second-guess myself into a frenzy. 
I gave them directions and my cell number, and shut down for the night. It was getting late, and I was going to have a busy day tomorrow. 

"Earth to Tim!" 
I gave my head a shake - assisted, admittedly, by the hand jostling my shoulder. "Huh? Oh, sorry, Steve," I said to the cougar grinning down over my shoulder. "What's up?" 
"That's what I'd like to know," Steven Lane chuckled. "You've been coding on autopilot for hours, man. You missed the pretzel run and I think you're stuck in the same endless loop as your program there. You got a date coming up or something?" He said it casually, but his green eyes sparkled with hope in that big-brother way he had. 
I looked at my screen and groaned. I had, indeed, been programming in circles - I should've spotted that error in seconds. 
"Not a date, exactly," I sighed. "I'm just gonna hang out with a few new people after work. I guess I'm a bit nervous about meeting them." 
"I guess?" Steve repeated. "A bit? Tim, you've got a real knack for understatement sometimes. I haven't seen anyone stuck in a recursion like that since high school." 
"Is it Friday yet?" I sighed. At least it was Wednesday, not Monday, that had me asking that. The clock in the corner of my screen read 4:16 PM. "All right. I'll just get a drink of water, then I'll patch this program up right." 
"No rush, tiger. Up til you got stuck fifteen minutes ago, you were going damn fast." A laugh. "We all thought you were in some kind of trance, and were afraid to distract you and snap you out of it." 
"Whatever. I'm not letting this one stand." I flicked a hand toward my monitor as though literally swatting a bug. 
Steve grinned, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Give 'em hell, Tim. And enjoy yourself tonight, you more than deserve it." 
By the size of that grin, Steve probably thought I not only did have a date, but was going to get laid at some point in it. Oh, well; that didn't make his advice any less valid. After all, why shouldn't I have fun once in a while?