He says that his personal style is “trendy,” and says “I have long, wavy hair.” He is “an outgoing, funny guy.” Corey likes “going to the movies, playing in my band, driving my vintage pickup, and eating pizza.” He says “I have a lot of great women that I hang out with. I introduced myself with as much good energy as I was feeling, but when she said “I’m Madison” I noticed that her voice was very nasal and stuffed-up sounding. The next day, a friend who knew I was set up on this date wanted to know how it went.Not romantically, just awesome high-school friends.” He adds “I’m not into the bar scene.” Corey says “I haven’t dated that much. I thought maybe she was punking me and had already talked to the friend who had set me up. I was too embarrassed to tell her that it was because I doused any flame before it had time to flicker.We discuss dating apps and first dates and decide to get coffee at a coffee shop that is also a laundromat. p.m.: There are plants that are dying in this laundromat-turned-coffee-shop, and I really wish someone would water them, but I keep it to myself. p.m.: We are both hungry and decide that the only solution to this hunger is sushi-boat sushi. And he looks at me like it’s something he’s never considered — that the experience of losing blood from injured genitals may have been worse than his requirement of care. p.m.: We leave and push past the labia-trauma conversation and venture back to the neighborhood we share.We take a Lyft to Japantown for little bits of raw fish, which are paraded around like pageant queens on a circular belt, and I can’t decide if I like him or not. p.m.: We discover rescue puppies up for adoption in the neighborhood. Has a penchant for female friends he once fucked and/or dated, which surfaces in almost every conversation. I’m not comforted to find that he lives in my neighborhood, a few houses down from one of my ex-boyfriends. p.m.: I realize that he’s a combination of every ex-boyfriend I’ve ever had.He’s tossing the books onto the bed while I sit in the middle like a bookworm queen. p.m.: We kiss eventually, and he reads poetry to me from the book he has just bought.
I want something with substance—meat, a steak, a baked potato dripping with butter and cream. p.m.: We detour to go to a market in North Beach for wine. He asks the hostess for a cigarette and thinks it’s funny to pretend the Holocaust didn’t happen.
One of the hottest girls I knew in high school asked me out after we graduated. When the three of them picked me up at my place, my first thought when I hopped in the car was that Madison was even better looking than she was in her photos.
It turned out she just wanted me to drive her around.
My hair is in his beard hair; his hair is on my arms.
I meet his roommate while she’s in her bra and we are like this. p.m.: L says he’d like to come to my friend’s St Patrick’s Day gathering that evening.