Last Wednesday, The Chewer called to ask if I’d like to go on another date this weekend. I had been leaning against the “post-sex guilt” date but decided a short walk around the park and coffee wouldn’t kill me on a nice fall day.
As we walked around the park the usual awkward silence was intermixed with the occasional question and answer. Not wanting to waste anymore of each other’s time, I suggested we sit down on a bench and talk. Without missing a beat, The Chewer asked, “You don’t want to see me anymore, do you?” Keep reading »