Aural Sex (Part One)
“We’re going to get an up-close-and-personal view of his CROTCH?” Mom asked. I'd just told her we'd be sitting front and center at Intoxicating Artist's concert. Literally. Row 1, seat 1, IN THE PIT. “Yes, Mom," I said. (And if we’re lucky, he’ll spit or sweat on us, too! I thought.) I dropped $130

Salad Days
“Ooh—there’s a really cute guy behind you,” Mom said the other night at the jazz club. We’d gone to see one of my childhood friends sing. Aside from the music, Mom was enjoying hypothetically matching me up with every bachelor in sight—even the ineligible ones. Mom gave me the hubba-hubba

Pucking Turkey Day
“What looks good?” Mom asked, perusing the menu at the Dakota Jazz Club the other night. I glanced at the table to my right, where a man was being served a plate of mussels. “Have you ever had mussels?” I asked. Mom shook her head. I watched as our neighbor delicately removed a mussel

Hot & Cold (Part II)
(Continued from yesterday's post.) The next day, as soon as Construction Cutie slouched into the chair across from me (we were down that like), he said, “So I’ve been thinking about this memoir thing. Aren’t you too young to write a memoir?” “It doesn’t cover my whole life,” I said. “Just

Hot & Cold
Once upon a time, I commuted to a nearby cafe daily to write. “How many cups of coffee until you finish that thing?” a man asked me one morning. I looked up from my laptop in shock at Construction Cutie. Though he came in regularly for a pair of hot-and-cold coffees, we’d never