Good News: He went to an Ivy League school.
Bad News: It was Columbia.

Good News: He has a graduate degree.
Bad News: It’s an MFA.

Good News: He appreciates the work of Don DeLillo.
Bad News: He prefers the work of Don Henley.

Good News: Every day he goes to work in a button-down and tie.
Bad News: No sleeves.

Good News: He cherishes family heirlooms.
Bad News: Mostly guns.

Good News: He knows a number of celebrities personally.
Bad News: They are Bill Cosby, Robert Blake, Jeffrey Epstein, “and guys like that.”

Good News: He’s a teacher.
Bad News: Of driver’s ed.

Good News: Every time I have lunch with him, I feel compelled to stand up and announce to the whole restaurant that “this guy right here? This guy? This guy is the best friend a guy could have in his whole life.”
Bad News: He brings his gun to lunch and points it under the table. He says, “stand up and say the thing.”

Good News: He has a lot of assets.
Bad News: Technically, they belong to my parents.

Good News: I handpicked him out of all of my friends to go on a blind date with you.
Bad News: He said he’d shoot me under the table if I didn’t.

Good News: He’s coming over to my apartment to discuss the date with you.
Bad News: He’s early.

Good News: I love this guy!
Bad News: He’s standing right behind me.

Good News: I've known him for a long time.
Bad News: I don’t, really. Last week he saw us walk out of work together. He let himself into my car.

Good News: He’s crazy about you!
Bad News: He’s crazy.

Good News: He's always polite and excuses himself when he steps out to use the bathroom.
Bad News: Okay, Denise, here’s the deal. Call 9-1-1. When they knock, I’ll say it’s the pizza guy.

Good News: He’ll figure it out! He’s so smart about this stuff. (Did I mention he has an MFA?)
Bad News: Help! He’s going to shoot me!

Good News: He’s available tonight.
Bad News: Seriously, help! He read the 9-1-1 thing. I don’t know how. He said he was going to the bathroom. I don’t think he ever did. He’s still right behind me.

. . . Wait, wait, wait. He says he has a joke for you. Go ahead, Rick. What’s the joke?

Good News: His first name is Rick.
Bad News: His last name is Hitler.

Good News: Yes—Rick Hitler.
Bad News: Okay, here’s the joke.

Q: What does his “MFA” stand for?
A: “Master of Fire Arms.” Oh, that’s funny. That’s funny, Rick.

Good News: He doesn’t have an MFA!
Bad News: I don’t know if there’s a bad side to that.

Good News: I didn’t laugh enough at the joke.
Bad News: I’m typing lefty because he’s stabbed my right hand to the desk.

Good News: He no longer has a knife.
Bad News: You have to laugh at his jokes. Like, a lot.

Good News: He’ll pick you up at eight.
Bad News: Goodbye, Denise.