Let us briefly rest from the obscene world of politics and turn to the more wholesome subject of hookups at bars. A 28-year-old named Justin Schweiger was recently caught lining up six dates for one night. He had ordered this ''buffet of women'' with the help of dating apps.
Lisette Pylant, date No. 1, got wind of this extraordinary show of disrespect. A friend who worked at the bar in Washington, D.C., had texted her a warning: ''This guy sucks.''
One by one, the dates were apprised of the situation. And one by one, they united in a show of force. Herein lies the great ending.
Pylant reported the drama real-time on Twitter. Of course, it went viral. Next thing you knew, the women were sharing their account on Good Morning America and Inside Edition.
What is this story's takeaway? It could be the indignities of app-based dating. One of the apps used, Bumble, is supposed to empower women by having them make the first move. Another, Hinge, says it promotes more socially accountable behavior by linking to Facebook.
Creeps can obviously get through the filters. And in any case, these women were quite savvy about the dating-app realities, among them the advantages held by men who seem halfway presentable.
This could be another collapse-of-chivalry story. Upon being tipped off to the game, Alex Woody saucily went into the bar and introduced herself to Schweiger and date No. 4. ''Hi, I'm date No. 5,'' she said. Schweiger retorted, ''Oh, you're already cut.
As Schweiger, an IT project manager, explained to The Washington Post: ''I appreciate time. Time is the only thing humans have. When it runs out, you're not a human anymore. I'm an efficient person.''
Schweiger may not be the authority on what makes a person human, but he should know this: Time matters for women. Very. Much.
Many might blame the sexual revolution for turning the mating ritual into a dumpster fire. But anyone who's read a lot of Victorian novels knows that cads have been around a long time.
No, this story is about the sisterhood. Four female friends joining in a mutual defense pact against bad men and others who would prey on them has long been a television theme. There was Girls and before that Sex and the City and before that Golden Girls.
These shows differed in the mores of the time, but the formula demanded populating the group with diverse personality types -- the street smart, the innocent, the traditionalist, the ''wild one.''
One thing underscored their commonality: They were women.
A member might wander off to do stupid things. But whether she got the best of her tormenter (often with help from the ''girls'') or not, she could limp home to comfort and support from the pack.
Pylant was still with Schweiger when date No. 2, Kristen Incorvaia, showed up. Schweiger introduced Pylant as merely a ''friend.''
When he left briefly to make a phone call, Pylant told Incorvaia: ''You need to run. This guy's the worst.'' That's sisterhood in full force.
None of the women could be described as helpless lambs, but once they united, they turned into lionesses. In the middle of it all, four of the ''dates'' joined for some jolly banter at another restaurant. Someone took a photo of the mixed-race group. The picture of four high-quality women could have served as a promo for a new female-centered sitcom.
Schweiger fancies he can parlay this stunt into some kind of stardom. ''I would love for this to launch me into some kind of writing career or writing for a show -- a sitcom, be a personality,'' he said.
The women, frankly, have a better chance of that.
FROMA HARROP writes for The Providence Journal. Her column is distributed by Creators Syndicate Inc.