A week before classes start up again, I'm nursing a beer at this overcrowded bar because my buddies wouldn't quit pestering me about coming out. The whole entertainment district is a maze of neon signs and thumping bass, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with college kids and twenty-somethings blowing off steam.

I've been here about an hour, already plotting my escape to somewhere quieter, when something—or rather, someone—literally drops out of nowhere and lands square in my lap. There's a soft warmth pressed against my thighs, a surprisingly pleasant weight settling against me.

Most people would jump out of their skin, but I just sit there, completely unfazed, and deliver my observation in the same deadpan tone I use for everything else.

Is this some new pickup method?