It’s been said of me that I will regard red flags with women the way skiers regard double-black diamonds at ski areas. They’re a challenge. Or a dare.

In the park today, there was a woman out with a pet rabbit. You figure, anyone out walking a bunny obviously wants some level of attention, and that in and of itself could be considered a red flag. Or she’s just weird. Either way. She was attractive, maybe mid-40s and well fit. Obviously a bit of an oddball. Offbeat.

My type.

Your man, me that is, ambles by and opens with, “Holy crap, your cat has really big ears!”

It’s not that I expected her to look up and fall in love, or even like, but maybe a sense of humor. I did not expect her response.

“It’s a fucking rabbit, moron!”

Oops.

I considered following up with something clever but she seemed to want to be left alone, or maybe wasn’t expecting the kind of attention I was offering so I simply said “my bad” and continued on. She could probably see my shoulders and back lifting and heaving with stifled laughter.

What then?

Nap time.