He’s strung me along for years and I fall for it every time. Sometimes it’s a day before he calls again, sometimes it’s months. But when he does, I’m here, like always, an obedient, lovesick puppy.

We’re watching nothing in particular on TV, flicking through channels of game shows and sitcoms. He’s sprawled across the battered couch, I sit on the floor next to the couch, hoping he’ll make a move, but he doesn’t. He mostly ignores me, other than to occasionally ask me to grab him another Budweiser. Just when he senses I’ve had about enough and I’m ready to leave, he says “Wanna take a shower with me?”

Alan doesn’t really give me much choice, not that I would say no anyway. He takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom. The faucet squawks in protest as he turns the water on. It’s an old trailer home, so the bathtub is made of cheap molded blue plastic. The tile was white once, but it’s also cheap and it’s turned a tobacco stained yellow here and there. Every girl’s seduction fantasy backdrop, I’m sure, but it’s all I’ve got. Continue reading →