(Once in a while, Paul Constant takes a new book with him to lunch and give it a half an hour or so to grab my attention. Lunch Date is his judgment on that speed-dating experience—and this is me, Jen Graves, doing Paul's experiment for myself.)

Who's your date today? The Chronology of Water, a memoir by Lidia Yuknavitch.

Where'd you go? Bimbo's, a Mexican joint on Pike.

What'd you eat? A black bean basic burrito and chips and pico de gallo (about $8)

How was the food? Good. Hearty. Crunchy and soft in the right places. Great tangy pico with big fleshy tomato chunks.

What does your date say about itself? It says that this is "not your mother's memoir." On the cover, Chuck Palahniuk says he's read it something like a trillion times and will never stop. There is also a naked boob with nipple on the cover, but I don't see this at first because it is hidden behind a handsome gray censor strip around the belly of the book. (When I found this I viciously tore it off. No nipple hiding on my watch.)

Is there a representative quote? "So I went in for the kill. I mean I snatched it out of the cold dark air as easily as he pulled songs from the sky and wrapped it in displaced rage and vodka breath and hurled it down at the top of his unsuspecting head until his neck nearly snapped. The way women in their twenties who are working out their ouch on everyone they meet do. Open wound girls. Swinging fist girls."

Will you two end up in bed together? We will, and it's not going to be pretty. Hair will be pulled. She's a furious badass, and I am attracted/revulsed. Can I get a little wisdom up in here? Maybe that's just the nature of the first third of her life, the first 75 pages that I made it through. What I do love is how physical the book is, both in its writing and in its point of view. Her body threatened to rise up from every single page I read. It's war in there. I'm going back in.