Nothing good comes after the third date. Date three is the crucial point when things get real, which is exactly why I bounce out the door, twiddling my fingers at whatever poor boy I've left behind. Because if I stick around, one of three things will happen: he'll profess his undying love, he'll get weird and stalky, or I'll go crazy. Like, Sid and Nancy crazy. Like, chase-him-through-the-streets-begging-him-to-love-me crazy. Seriously,...