If a ship were to rescue me, even just a friendly, disinterested one, I would want it to take me to the zoo. One cannot go to the zoo too much. It is an impossibility. There is no zoo quota.
You wanna know the best part about the zoo? They have animals. How can any two people be bored or uncomfortable when there are giraffes running about? They can't. That's how. There can be no end to conversation when there are goats to pet, statues to pose on, meerkats to ogle, and squirrels to feed.
Would you like to know a secret? The Phoenix Zoo has an area they call the Forest of Uco, and I think it is one of the most romantic places in the world. I know it's just false fronts and canned music, but I fantasize about walking hand in hand with some handsome, clever young man through that pretty little street. He'll stop me by the fountain and pull me into the cha-cha. We'll laugh as he guides me through the steps because my feet have never been good at remembering what they're supposed to be doing, and he knows it. And then we'll go see the Andean bears.
Because nothing says precious like this little guy:
Listening to: "Defying Gravity" by Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel
Reading: The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman