Yes, and it's lame.

"Applebee's and a movie?" The high school senior answers with nervous excitement. "They're within walking distance of your apartment."

"Christopher," you put your hand on his shoulder, "do you mind if I give you some advice about women?"

"It would help." He sheepishly admits.

"There is only one thing you said that is even vaguely romantic." You try to help his future girlfriends. "It's the walking part. Women enjoy getting to know their date, and strolling around some pleasant locale can be very romantic. Movies, therefore are the exact opposite of that, and generic restaurant chains show a lack of creativity. We like thoughtfulness, attention and the feeling we are special."

"So what should I have planned?" Your pupil fixes his glasses.

"Do you know how to cook?"

"Yes." He nods, "I live with my uncle, its a long story, but I do most of the cooking."

"So how about this?" You muse. "We go to the market around the corner, pick up some groceries and come back here and cook dinner together? But first another matter needs our intention." Christopher goes stiff as put your arm around his waist. "Selfie, for your Facebook?" You smile.

"Oh, yes."

After a few selfies you excuse yourself to change into more causal evening, by swapping the dress and heels for a simple coral v-neck blouse, khaki capris and oxford leather sandals. Before heading out you give Christopher a quick makeover, having him lose the tacky jacket and the tie. Shopping at the store, cooking together and the meal goes reasonably well, but your date never truly loosens up. As you serve a raspberry torte for dessert you ask if there has been any response on his Facebook page.

"They're saying it's just a mercy date." Christopher frowns, realizing the truth for the first time.

"Let me see that!" You grab his phone and read out loud as you type. "Even so, would you have said 'no?'" Walking over behind Christopher's chair you tug at your shirt exposing some cleavage and bend over next to him. Reaching out with his cell you say, "relax, smile, look at the camera," as you put on your best provocative look. After uploading the new pic you wait a few seconds. "Hmm, no reply." You smile at Christopher and sit back down at your seat.

"Thank you. You're really kind."

"It's okay. I know all about jerks." To keep the mood going you go for the next best thing after cleavage to encourage a guy, talking about something he likes and pretend it's interesting. "What type of phone is this?"

"The latest Samsung Galaxy."

"Is it better than my iPhone?" That question, of course, unleashes a flood of passionate geek tech speech about various numbers ending with meaningless abbreviations as RAM, GB, mAh and ppi. Though you don't care one wit about which phone is better it does please you the Christopher is starting to relax. The one phrase that does catch your attention is that his phone is better at handling the apps he has created.

"You make your own apps?" The tech stuff might not interest you, but the creativity of smart people always has.

"Yes." He gleams. "It is one of my favorite hobbies."

"So that's what's in the folder 'CS'?" You ask as you open it.

"Yes, it's were . . ." Christopher's eyes then go wide with terror. "Wait!" He nearly yells as he lunges for his phone. "Don't look at that!"

He is too late, however, for you read the embarrassing title of his latest work, just as he snatches his phone from your hand.