He had long hair, which he often wore in a pony tail. My friends and acquaintances thought he looked like Charlie Manson, to me he looked more like Ji... Morrison. He was an old soul. He was into jazz, old films and renaissance art. He was also a pervert, a proud one. He was one of those anti-marriage, free sex for all, kind of people. He claimed he had no jealousies or pettiness when it came to sex. He intrigued me, even from the beginning. Sure, I sucked him off on our first date. He had a. “Thanks. Where to?” She tells me her address. It’s not too far out of my way, so it’s not a big deal. She doesn’t say much in the car, which is a relief after the long-winded garbage she’s come up with so far.Just the same, when we pull up to her building, she gives me that silly grin of hers.“You’ve been really cool.”“You’re a nice kid,” I say. It’s true. If I hadn’t wanted to slit my wrist during the ‘Picard as borg’ discussion, I’d be all over her by now. But, like I said, no geeks –. More

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