We did it in a park, in a car, in an apartment, every room of a friend’s house: the bathroom, the living room on the floor (where I got her pregnant..., the bedroom, the baby’s room, hotels spread across three states. We had to get anywhere we could because her mother hated me. Rose was only 18 and I was 29. We broke up and it hurt pretty damn bad, especially given the fact that she married a fucking birdbrain who doesn’t work and has turned her into a total whore. And of course, like so many. No, I didn’t make a hard copy. No, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Yes, you’ve saved my bacon – again. But all was not lost. Opening up my e-mails there it was. Not quite the answer to everything, and certainly not my play, but – wait for it – an e-mail from the man I’d had a crush on for eighteen months. And swear to God, in one evening, thanks to the brilliance that is modern technology I’d gone from being a passing acquaintance to the one he was going to bed to dream about tonight. And. More

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