I am 28, single, with neither cat, dog nor goldfish.
On Sunday I'm having brunch with L., on whom I've had a crush on and off since approximately 1992. She doesn't know; until last week, we hadn't seen each other for a decade.
No expectations on my side. New Yorkers have brunch for any number of funny reasons, especially if you live in Brooklyn. (It's also a fact that one doesn't need a reason, save for want of a Bloody Mary.) Perhaps she's looking for work.
L. has outwardly changed not at all since we left high school, while I, say classmates with great tact, have morphed into something more palatable.
It's all quite fascinating.
No comments:
Post a Comment