One lone man ceases undulating to put his lips to the ear of the chick he's grinding up on. "Hey," he purrs, "Can I get your Twitter handle?"
We've reached that point, folks: the zenith of awkwardness whereby the cables of communication are so plentiful that we are wound in a web of our own making.
In a sense, we have returned to the tangled days of Emily Post-esque courting etiquette -- circa 1922 -- whereby men left women calling cards and letters of introduction, not actually seeing the women themselves upon delivery, unless it was between 4 and 6 o'clock (yes, these were the actual rules).
Though we no longer carry engraved cards (2¾ to 3½ inches wide by 2 to 2¾ inches high), we do tout around the modern equivalent: a slew of digital identities that potential suitors must circumvent to get to the actual you.
While we admit that fixing the above issue wholesale would require a total brain-scrub of the world's populace, we are prepared to offer a few date-making tips for all you hopeless (emphasis on the hopeless) romantics.
And so begins my Netiquette column -- which I write with my Stuff Hipsters Hate co-blogger, Andrea Bartz -- this week over at CNN.