It took Amy only a few minutes to make up her mind: I've got absolutely nothing in common with this guy. She wasn't sure why, but she was convinced. Was it his two-day stubble? The tattered jeans? Perhaps the way he stared at her while they talked? In any case, after a mere five minutes Amy was already wishing she had never agreed to this blind date with Andy. Now she would have to spend several hours in a bar with a guy who didn't understand why sports don't do it for her and why she prefers to read. I know his type, she sighed to herself. Conceited, careless. I'll bet he's going to tell me all about rock climbing and what a success he is. This is going to be a long evening.