Here, she had dated. Tried dating. Gave it a good try, and it was awful.


Men who seemed smart, accomplished and charming turned out to be full of themselves and desperate to regain lost ground—lost hair, lost muscle. The head of the chamber society, the dentist, the district attorney and they had gone to movies, concerts and art openings. These men could not stop talking about themselves in the car on the way to dinner, during dinner and driving her home. And they were horny. Dropping her off, and no way was she inviting him in, the dentist had leaned across the console, opened his lips in a contorted way he must have thought to be sultry—something was going on with his fingers below his seatbelt—and with the teeth and gums he was flashing she was about to be consumed by The Alien. Startled, she jerked back, hit her head on the window, and she may have been out for a moment. Regaining herself, she opened the door, got out and looked back in at the sheepish man behind the wheel. “Please, don’t! Don’t call, don’t…and please…just don’t.” She closed the door.


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