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“So, what’ll you have,” he asked the young lady as they faced the setting sun.

“Um, well…” She teethed her bottom lip. “I’ll have…um…” She blinked at the orange and red skyline.

“It’s just a drink.” Shoving hands into his pockets, lips squelched to the side, he scanned the mingling crowd.

“Um…. Wine. No, wait. Beer. You drink beer? Maybe I should have water? Yes, all this fresh air’s dehydrating. You? Um…. No, wait, cocktail? Is that too much? Or a non-alcoholic cocktail? That’ll be a juice, right? No, wait-.”

His eyes rolled as he suppressed an inner groan.“It’s just one drink.”

“This is fun?”

His eyebrow raised at her.

“Soooo romantic. Perfect place for our wedding, don’t you think?”

He gagged, tugging at his t-shirt’s collar as his face reddened.

“You alright? Want me to get you a drink?”

“I’ll fetch my own, thanks.” He turned and ran to edge and took a flying leap.

“MAN OVERBOARD,” came the cry.

The skipper at the helm shook his head and wheeled his yacht around and headed for the man swimming for shore. “That’s it – No more Single’s Nights on this boat. Poor blokes can’t handle the pressure.”

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