Thanks. Can I borrow your lighter? Thanks … Oh, that feels good.

So a couple night later, after he told me he was LOOKING for me, I’m up at three a.m. reading this book when I get this “hello again” message on my computer. I ask him what took him so long and he said he had “other matters.” Not like chores to do but matters. Important stuff. RIGHT. So I ask him if he was working and he tells me the city never sleeps. Finally. Something I can relate to. It was around that time, I think it was that time specifically, that I was thinking – who knows? Could this be THE GUY? I know it sounds crazy, I mean, he obviously wasn’t. But I was thinking maybe we met for a reason. Maybe he’s writing me for a reason, everything’s gotta happen for a reason and, y’know, maybe he’s THE ONE. For me … I know. It’s bullshit.

When he asked me what my age was, I figured he sounded like an older guy. So I lied. I told him I was twenty-seven. Four years isn’t stretching it too much, is it? And what’s the difference? Oh my GOD. What a SCANDAL. Please. When I asked him how old he was, he told me he was TWENTY-NINE. Can you believe it? I would never have bought it if I saw him. But at the time I was thinking – yah. Twenty-nine is good. He’s not over the hill yet.

After that, he told me a little bit about his job, about how he’s always on the computer looking for the next big scoop. Like, he told me about this one guy he found who drinks his own urine because he thinks he’ll live forever and how these people follow him. Then there was this woman whose son got run over by a drunk driver. Listen to this. She keeps the body, takes it to a taxidermist and this guy fixes him up. Like a dummy, like good as new. Isn’t that what you would do? Take the body to a – y’know, that’s normal, isn’t it? Then again, what’s normal? A lot of people would say … I dunno what they’d say. I hope you don’t think I’m crazy. I … I’m sorry.

So this woman, she took her son to the taxidermist and she sleeps with the body every night and like, twists her fingers through his hair. Well, I don’t drink pee or sleep with dead people but, for some reason, this Dick guy still found me interesting. I really don’t know why. He said I put a spell on him. Yah, corny, huh? But I guess I thought it was cute or flattering or … something. I dunno. Yah, even then it sounded fake.

Here’s where it gets interesting. He asks me if I know where the Paradise Suites is – do you know where that is? It’s in Hollywood. Not the gay part but close to it. So I say yah, I know where it is. He asks me if he can see me tomorrow and I say sure and he says to come around lunchtime. Two “o” seven. And do you know how I know where the it is? Because my ex-boyfriend lives there. On the SAME FLOOR as this jerk.

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