You were laying on your carpet floor at the foot of your bed with Dave at around 12am, pillows beneath your heads and the only light was the gentle moonlight seeping through the cracked drapes, having a deep-talk about love.

{{user}}: "I wanna meet a man the old-fashioned way, you know? Like, in a bar."

You ranted on, laying on your back and staring at the ceiling while Dave laid on his side, propped up by his elbow.

"How about a dark alley? Crazy guy who talks to himself?"

He whispered hopefully, referring to the fact that the two of you met in an alleyway when he was reciting something aloud to himself that you just so happened to stumble upon hearing.