Meet Your Future Wife in a Burning Building

I think what depresses me about bars is that hopefully nothing that happens there will be long-lasting. I'd be sad if I asked my parents where they met and their story went something like:
'Oh yeah, son, I saw your mother at the bar and I thought, 'Hey, I'd bang that,' so I bought her whatever beer was on special. Then when she was drunk enough to make eye contact with me, I took her home and we had some sex. Then she missed her period, we got married, and you were born.'

There isn't much magic about yelling to someone in a loud, smoky room. I want to rescue my future wife from a burning building.

Amy just read this and said, 'I don't want to be in a burning building.' Well, I guess we know who's not marrying me, then. She now says:
'I guess we know who's not getting any tonight, too.'

Damn.

(class.)

I didn't make this connection when I first typed this, but both bars and burning hospitals are filled with smoky rooms. However, with burning hospitals, there's a sense of urgency, but with bars, you're just yelling at people sitting a few feet away from you because the bad music they're playing is too goddamn loud.

Basically what I'm saying is that if you're trying to meet a woman at a bar, spice up the night by setting the shitty live band on fire and rescuing the pretty lady at the bar. If shortly after giving her CPR you find out she has a boyfriend, throw her back in. "I saved you to get some poontang, lady, now go have your precious boyfriend resuscitate you after you pass out from smoke inhalation."

Also, for the record, I would never set a bar on fire, rescue a hot lady stranger, ask her if she has a boyfriend, then throw her back into the flames when she says yes. This is because I have a girlfriend, thank you very much, and she'd probably get really mad if I saved another woman. So ladies, if you're on fire and I don't rescue you, it's nothing personal.