I must have said something typically pretentious

I must have said something typically pretentious, possibly the word "importune." I had picked up a woman and a man, roommates in their mid-to-late thirties, at Jimmy Mak's, along with another guy whom the woman fancied. Apparently they just met tonight and hit it off. We've dropped him at his car, and now her roommate is teasing her. But when I join in, egging her on to pursue this guy, the topic shifts.

"May I at this time just say I am in awe at your total command of the English language?" the male roommate says. OK, that's embarrassing. I must have let my tongue run rampant again. "It's making me seriously horny, let me tell you."

Right, I'll let the tongue run rampant. "Please, pick something on which you would like to have discourse, and we'll have at." Joking, I'm joking. He picks John Stuart Mill and utilitarianism, about which I know nothing except it is related to the maximization of happiness. I start bluffing. "Oh, now I'm ready to start masturbating back here." Hearing this from a passenger is usually cause for concern rather than mirth, I must say.

They ask about the Night Cabbie; every female driver is fielding that question now. They want to know what outrageous thing they'd have to do to end up in the column.

Doesn't have to be outrageous. Here they are. Perhaps now I'll get the email I was promised. Maximization of happiness and all that.