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 The next morning, Gary and Dave were getting ready for work. They lived together, sharing a house by the beach. Gary, an analyst for an important brokerage firm, was already on the phone checking the stock market quotes in New York.
 Dave, on the terrace of the house, was inspired by the fresh morning breeze to write words for a new song. Perhaps in search for more excitement, Dave checked out his account at FLIRT.com, and suddenly he found this new message lost in the half-dozen he receives daily from admiring fans.
Dave called Gary and said:
- Hey look at this, Gary. Someone is writing me called "Sundae."
- Is it the girl that we met yesterday?
- You mean Tiffany?
- Yeah, I think she liked me.
- Get out of here. She did not even look at you, bro.
- Well, what did she write? Did she ask about me?
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Dave looked puzzled:
- She's talking about my goatee, and my refined manners.
- Well, I think these must be my manners, said Gary with a prescient air.
She wrote to you because she didn't know how to find me.
- Yeah, right, Tiffany went to my concerts. Not to yours, Mr. Manners. Look, she wants someone to cook her breakfast. Let's invite her over, and we'll see who she's hot for. OK?
- Fine, grinned Gary. But we know that I'll be making her breakfast, since you can't cook.
Dave snapped his fingers and winked:
- That's OK by me, because while you serve her breakfast, I'll be working her with my charms.
- Sure you will!
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