"I'll be ready by seven."Friday night I was examining myself in the mirror for the umpteenth time when the doorbell rang. I had on the good old basic ...lack dress, cut a bit above the knees, combined with low heels and pantyhose. I really wasn't much of a dress wearer and definitely did not take to heels. The boots I had worn in my early twenties before I went to technical college and running shoes were more my style. Not that I'm butch, you understand. I just prefer comfort.George looked very. But who the fuck uses it in actual conversation? It is a word meant only to be used on the printed page."Well." That could have meant anything. I didn't know. Let him figure it out."I had a nice time studying with you the other night," he said.Yes! I was getting a second chance."Me too. I was wondering if you were doing anything tonight." Well, I do have plans, but perhaps you'd like to come along. I'm going to see the wrestling team." Sure."What? Is there a more boring, nerdier sport? I wonder. More

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