The secret to a beating heart revealed - Romance vs. Science

It was February 14, 2009, Valentine’s Day.  The chill was finally wearing off of Dave after coming in from the 12 degree weather and twenty mile-an-hour winds.  The restaurant was nice, and the filet mignon and pinot noir was always something to look forward too, not-t0-mention, his beautiful wife, Laura, across the table from him.

Valentine’s Day really wasn’t his thing.  Romance as a whole was probably his weakest attribute.  He was a scientist, and wasting mental energy on such nonsense was a tragic waste of his brain’s resources.  Yet, when he stared in to his wife’s wide, passionate eyes, with the faint mood-lighting glistening it’s way through her amber hair, dancing off of her suductively smooth skin, science quickly became the lowest of priorities.  But romance?  It’s just not Dave’s thing.

He forked some filet, lifting it to his mouth, never breaking eye-contact with his wife as she swallowed a little bite of salad and said, “I love you honey.  You complete me.  You make my heart beat.”

Dave was shocked.  It was the worse thing she could have said, and what followed was a long period of awkward silence.  He sat back in his chair, clearly exasperated, no longer enjoying the flavor of the mignon melting in his mouth.

Laura was worried.  “Honey?  Are you ok?  Are you choking?”

Dave reached for his napkin, chewed the rest of his meat, and wiped the corners of his mouth.

“Elle,” as he liked to call her when he was about to give her an education.  “Listen.  You know better than that.  I don’t make your heart beat.  According to the January, 2009 issue of New Scientist, ‘each (Heart) beat is triggered by a surge of calcium ions that causes millions of overlapping filaments in a heart cell to pull against each other and contract. These filaments are made of two proteins called actin and myosin.’”

It was not more than two or three seconds before Dave’s head was complete soaked in wine and salad, which made it even colder when that twenty mile-an-hour wind swept through the restaraunt on Laura’s swift exit.

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