Whoa there, Peter Cetera, hold your horses. I get that you wanna defend my honor and all, but I didn't bring enough money on our date to bail you out of jail. It's fine; you don't need to kick his ass over this. It's not that big of a deal that some guy by the dj booth bumped into me and spilled my drink. It sucks that he wouldn't apologize but there's no need to resort to fisticuffs over it. Let's just get out of here. Fuck it. I know a great little spot down the street. We'll just go there. Come here *grab his hand and leave the bar*What we really think:
Swoon x a million. This guy is so amped about me, he is willing to throw down. That's insane. And awesome. And hot. It's insanely awesome and hot. Hanging out with him is like having my own personal bouncer, but he doesn't have to spend his weekend nights sitting on a stool by the entrance of a rowdy bar. He listens to God Help the Girl, he wears glasses, and he would drop a guy who disrespects me in a heartbeat. I...I...I...think I love him.