So.

Sometime last September or so, I get this really nice and friendly email of the "I really enjoy the Apprentice recaps" variety. Which, because I'm busy and . . . well, rude, I wind up not answering. I always mean to get back to everybody, but I don't always. And in this case, I basically . . . you know, don't.

And then sometime in the early part of December, I get another one. Same guy, who now tells me that he is, among other things, an online dating expert (!) who lives in L.A., but is going to be in town to work on his new book, and he thinks it would be fun to hang out while he's here. (He assures me he is not looking for any cheap thrills, lest I fear this is some sort of scam he has to troll for chicks from the internet on, like, an interstate basis.)

As it happens, the night he's going to be in town lands on a weekend when I already have SO MUCH to do that I have already canceled some plans I had previously (uh, sorry, Mom!). It's the day before the damn three-hour Survivor finale, it's two weeks before Christmas, and I am smack in the middle of the famed threecap season. (Hey, like I am now!) So I open an email window to write him back and tell him thanks, but I'm just too damn busy. And then I notice that there's a little link to his site, and over there, I find this clip of him talking on CNN, and it includes the telling of this really silly Hall and Oates joke, and . . . well, OKAY. "It wouldn't be right," I write to him, "to leave you with nothing to do in a town full of perfectly good . . . ice and Lutherans."

So he comes to town, and we go out for sushi (in Minnesota! I know!), and on the way from sushi to drinks, I ask him what the book is that he's working on. (With, incidentally, a Minnesota-based co-author, which is why he's in town.) He tells me that it's one of these books for single women. You know. He's Just Not That Into You and whatnot.

And I swear, it's like you can hear the needle scratch across the record, just like an old Ally McBeal episode, like, "RRRRRRTTTT!" And I say to him, "Oh." And he says, "What?" "Well," I say, "I hate those books. No offense, but I really, really hate those books. Because single women are not a pathology, and speaking as one, I kind of don't appreciate it." So we're doing the spirited debate thing (if you know me, you know how I get), and he goes on to explain to me that the idea is in part to improve upon some of the less satisfying examples of the genre -- which we basically agree are . . . for lack of a better word, in many cases, evil. And I allow that this makes sense, and he unloads some of his thinking on me that's going to go into this book, and it's surprisingly sound, so I think to myself, "Well, they might go off and write the first non-hateworthy book of this kind. I might even read it." So we have drinks, and chat until about 3:00 in the morning, and he goes back to California, and End Chapter One.

This is the night I famously lose the ability to dress myself, because I am smooth that way. I am all about making an awesome first impression.

So we trade a few more emails, primarily about the wrapping up of the second season of The Apprentice, and eventually, he mentions to me that it's maybe not working out with the person he was writing the book with, and he's thinking maybe what would work is a smart chick who writes who normally hates this kind of book, and do I have any interest in writing one?

He makes this suggestion literally within days of the posting of this.

So then there's a ridiculous whirlwind of writing back and forth and book proposal and agent and waiting and as it turns out, next summer, this book is going to exist and you're going to get to read it.

I KNOW!

In truth, I've been writing the same kinds of things that show up in this book for a really long time. I write about self-possessed women, how unwise it is to refuse to drop arguments, why women get stuck on dismissive jackasses, why acting like a jerk is not something you should tolerate, and why you shouldn't try to be cute in ways that are mean. In fact, the Married By America recaps alone provide adequate warm-up for this experience.

So anyway, this is Evan, if you want an online dating profile that brings all the boys to the yard, you should totally get in touch with him. And we're writing a book, and I'll talk more about it later when it's not threecap season, and . . . I KNOW!

If I made up this story, it would really be too weird for you to believe, now, wouldn't it?