Dating
It’s not seldom that I sit back and wonder what’s wrong with me that no one asks me out or apparently wants to date me.
And then it comes to me that, the last time someone was interested in me (and came into my dorm room, escorted by my currently-unavailable roommate who, by the way, sort of had a crush on him, and had concocted an elaborate scheme to woo me with Scrabble and songs on the guitar), I stomped around in rainboots packing my car and then went and hid in the computer room with The House of the Seven Gables until I was sure he was gone.
Not that that makes me feel any better.
