"So what do you think of the neighbors?" I asked. My parents' neighbors, to be perfectly accurate. Molly and I were house-sitting while my parents were in Europe, and I'd just taken her over to meet the Levines. We'd had a nice chat and they'd invited us to dinner the next night.
"I like them," Molly said. "They seem a little flashy for this neighborhood, though, don't you think?" Molly grew up in Manhattan and has a low opinion of my suburb of origin.
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I'm running late, and am scared you're going to be pissed. It's my 31st birthday, and you've promised me a special treat but said I had to be at your apartment by 6:00. When you called this afternoon you wouldn't give any details, but seemed pretty pleased with yourself. Fucking F train, always running late when I need to get to your place. Well, OK, I wanted to watch the Simpson's, and left late. But, still, the fucking F train. My watch tells me that I'm ½ hour late. Fuck.
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I met Rick and his girlfriend Wendy when I dated Nancy. Nancy and Wendy were roommates and we two couples spent a lot of social time together. Unknown to all of us Nancy was experimenting with hard drugs and she eventually spiraled out of control and out of our lives.
Both Rick and I worked night jobs and on days when I had no classes we would often hang out together.
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Back in college, I met this one girl and we started to get to know each other fairly well in classes and in passing. She had a live-in boyfriend named Bruce, a guy in the drama club. After we'd known each other a couple months, she finally asked to stop by their place on Friday night and we'd have some beers.
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Karen sat quietly on the edge of the bed waiting. They would be here in just a few moments and she wanted to calm her beating heart. She was about to meet her best friend's latest lover. After weeks of hearing about him and being amazed by all the talk of raw sex and positions and role playing, she was excited and a bit afraid.
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There's something a little Zen to the game of sex. The sound of one hand clapping? How about the fact that you never meet a hot woman when you're trying? I don't believe in pheromones, generally, but it's obvious women can smell desperation on a man. From a long way off.
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What is better - chocolate or sex? I know what you are thinking, both! Well that is exactly my thoughts on the subject.
Valentines day can be very frustrating, finding the perfect gift, the perfect evening topped with a candlelight dinner, wine, perhaps dancing and passionate sex. Every year we tried to outdo the other just to make that evening perfect in every sense.
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I hadn't seen my sister Karen for about four years and was quite shocked to see how much she had changed; not only in her appearance but also in the way she talked and acted. Karen is three years younger than me that makes her 23 now, she stopped living with mom and dad about six years ago, dropped out of school and travelled around for a couple of years. When she returned home she got mixed up with some very unsavoury characters and eventually took off again with this guy, a real low life who was into everything...drugs, prostitution, you name it, he was into it.
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Ever since my wife, Janis, and I have discovered the new world of liberated sex we have an entire new outlook on life, especially Janis. I never know what she'll come up with next.
For instance, we were planning on attending her annual office dinner/dance party at the local Hilton Hotel. Nothing unusual about that until the night of, she appeared in the new dress she planned on wearing.
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Cold rain, wind and hail pummeled the city. The power had been out for some time. Jeanne didn't know the exact reason why. She didn't care. She was just pissed.
The entire city had shut down, traffic had come to a complete stop, she'd missed her meeting, and she was soaked to the bone. Jeanne could do nothing but shiver in her flimsy business suit as she scurried down the murky, old brick street of the French Quarter. She held her briefcase over her head as if that would somehow protect her from the driving rain.
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