“So…do you mind coming back to my apartment while I get dressed?” “Not a bit,” I say. “Want me to drive?” “Hell, no. I want to drive y...ur car,” he says, running his hand appreciatively over the hood. “Be my guest,” I giggle, handing him the keys. Guys always want to drive my car. Then they want to get me in the back seat of my car...which is an issue because there's really not much space back there, but I’d gladly hop in there with Kyle in a heartbeat. His apartment is only a few minutes from. I was being driven by something inside me, something I didn't know, something I don't think I wanted to know, something dark that I was afraid of."Turn left," she said, and I did, obediently. Isn't that odd? I refuse to listen to the collective wisdom of society but I'll obey every little whim of a talking computer chip. Maybe, just maybe, that is because little nag is always right and society's rules have this way of being wrong so much of the time, impeding happiness and pleasure instead of. More

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