The dresses were almost nice, except that one, which Sitwell had seen her in and knew was not appropriate, and, oh, those were skulls, too...he felt a weird pain in his jaw from where he kept grinding his teeth, but he still really hoped she picked that white one. At least those could be nice birds, maybe. "ChristianMingle," he said impulsively, then grinned (sort of, grimaced), hands up in surrender because that definitely wasn't a lie they could maintain, but he kind of hoped then it had been a viable option. "Through friends. Karaoke. We sang a duet and it was adorable and very tasteful." Maybe they could organize a night for him to be back in his own bed to make this seem more worthwhile soon. Would that be invading her space at this point?