I am a Southerner in the City, an aging debutante, a small town girl cursed with big city aspirations. My grandfather says that I’m at the cusp of feminine failure—I’m as old as a bottle of prime Tennessee whiskey (aged 25 years) and still single. I need to “get on home” and find a nice Southern boy—a doctor, maybe an insurance salesman. At this, I dig in my heels and set out to date every inappropriate man in Manhattan…
Friday, December 9, 2005
The Dinner (Part I)
I would take her out to dinner. Yes, that was it. The two striking blondes at a “Daniel” corner table. And, we’d discuss… We’d talk about the producers, someone’s penchant for pornography and the ensuing scandal, all the maintenance men going in and out of the dark editing rooms, shaking their heads. There would be that talk and then, maybe we could get down to business.
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