The Floss-trophic First Date

Elias, a self-proclaimed 'man of intriguing hobbies,' was midway through explaining his extensive collection of vintage dental floss dispensers to a visibly bewildered Sarah. She'd asked, innocently enough, what he did for fun. 'And this one,' he enthused, brandishing a tarnished copper contraption, 'is from the early 1900s! Imagine the flossing possibilities!' Sarah, who had mentally checked out around the third mention of 'mint-flavored,' managed a weak smile. 'Fascinating,' she mumbled, her eyes darting towards the exit sign. Elias, mistaking her discomfort for awe, leaned in conspiratorially. 'I even catalog them by geographical origin of the floss!' He paused, expecting applause. Sarah, however, had a sudden, urgent revelation. 'You know,' she said, pushing back her chair, 'I just remembered I have to... uh... re-floss my cat.' Elias blinked. 'You... have a flossing cat?' Sarah was already halfway out the door. 'Only on Tuesdays!' she called back, making a mental note to pre-screen for dental hygiene enthusiasts next time.