All right, you’ve come this far. You’re sitting next to her on the grass, it’s a beautiful night, you’re wearing one of the only two remotely nice shirts you own, and praise God your pit stains have yet to make significant visible progress. You’re rocking a minor splash of Claiborne Sport, and for better or worse you’re pretty sure you’re the only person on the planet who owns that cologne. Wait, why are you even wearing cologne? You’re supposed to Be Yourself, and you’re not a Cologne Type of Guy. This was a terrible mistake; everything is going terribly and you’re going to die alone.

Get yourself together! You’re Cruise, you’re Pitt… no, you’re Swayze. You’re “Ghost”-era Swayze, and she is your pre-Ashton Demi. Like them, what you need right now is the Hand-on-Hand. A gentle Hand-on-Hand will be your romantic traffic light. If she accepts, it’s green, and you go. If she accepts tentatively, it’s yellow, and you go. What would Swayze say if he were here? He’d say “The red bulb is broken, baby,” and then he would play a guitar solo on a moving motorcycle. Let’s do this.

You’re Hand-on-Hand, but oh man, your palms, your palms! She probably thinks you just crawled through a vat of diced honeydew. No, that’s ridiculous, why would she possibly assume that you were hello, she’s moving her thumb back and forth! This is monumental. This is the moon landing, this is the fall of the Berlin Wall, this is a Hall & Oates reunion tour. Now, focus. Distract her by pointing to an “owl” so you can get out your Certs and eat one, fast. You don’t need a lot of Certs – just one singular Cert will do.

What are you saying? “I think that Kant has it right when it comes to free will?” Shut up! You should be talking about something meaningless that can playfully lead to a kiss. Cats! Doritos! Meatloaf! Bocce! Oh God, you just literally said “Cats, Doritos, meatloaf, bocce.” You’re ruined. Wait… she’s laughing. She thought it was cute. She’s leaning. Lean. LEAN!

The kiss – boom shakalaka! A game of NBA Jam would be great right now! No, stay focused. Close your eyes. Wait, open them. Are hers open? No. Close them. Open them. Aw, she’s so pretty. Hey, a squirrel. Take a picture, Squirrel, it’ll last longer. Close your eyes. Breathe through your nose. Stifle that burp. Not too much tongue. Is it too soon for a love bite? Of course it is; you’re such an idiot. Aaaand release.

Whatever you do, don’t ask her what this makes us. After all, girls hate guys that overanalyze. Thank God you’re not one of those.