“You haven't gone out on a date in months. What gives, man?”
It was a Sunday afternoon and I kicked back in my one-bedroom apartment, zoned out on chocolate as I basked in the view of my unrequited love. He was currently bent over in front of me as I sat at my kitchen table and watched him work.
Henry Bunting was the building superintendent. I called him up to fix the kitchen sink since the damn thing wouldn’t stop leaking. Maybe a fitting was loose or something.
"So it’s been a while. What of it?" I retorted.
"A while? Try, like a year. It’s been forever since you’ve gone out, let alone had an actual date with a guy that didn't lead to s*x within ten minutes of buying him a beer."
"Because you're such a shining example of dating how-to's. You've got so many men coming in and out of
