At first Darby appeared on the brink of rejecting him, as every other woman he’d ever approached had done. But then she gave him a second look (wheels obviously turning laboriously and gears grinding and clanking in her head) and accepted.
Myron was elated: finally, a first date at age twenty-five, and with a girl who was undeniably attractive. Darby didn’t have a swimsuit-model body or anything, and she clearly lacked a few social graces as well as brains. But a date was a date. Darby ate her way through the menu, scoffed most of the wine for him, and there was no invite in, no goodnight kiss or even a thank you at the end. But she agreed to see him again, and again and again, and soon Myron actually had a real live girlfriend. The s*x part was terribly slow in coming though.
Through se
