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For the hour-long trip back to the East Bay, I got a text from her as I finished my beer, steeling myself:

For the hour-long trip back to the East Bay, I got a text from her as I finished my beer, steeling myself:

hey sorry, simply got a call that my father is within the medical center down at stanford and I also have actually to be down there right away

We suspected, of course, she’d bothered to text at all—condemning her father to the hospital, of all things—I still don’t quite understand that she’d received no such call, that the text, like almost everything else that night, was just another untruth, though why. Twenty moments earlier in the day she’d explained he worked being a fresh Air Force colonel on Guam. Nevertheless, she was told by me that we hoped things worked out all suitable for him. It didn’t, after every thing, appear quite worth the time and effort to call her out up on it.

I drank along the last associated with alcohol, adding personal obelisk that is small to hers, and walked away alone to the Inner Sunset’s midnight fog.

When I headed toward the BART place, the wind through the Pacific rushing down marketplace Street’s metal canyon, we wondered for a minute why she’d made a decision to keep. Did she think that we had—in exactly the same way that I thought she had—misrepresented myself? Had been she anticipating some body taller? Someone smarter? Somebody with additional muscle tissue or perhaps a much deeper sound? We noticed long-repressed anxieties about my masculinity surfacing once again, and I opened my OkCupid profile on my phone, conscious, for the first time, that maybe I had embellished it as I headed down the escalator into the station at Civic Center. There did seem—didn’t there?—a slightly more hardened tone to the profile, an over-exaggeration of my desire for baseball perhaps, a significantly disingenuous accounting of my intimate prowess. I hadn’t been conscious of some of your when designing the profile, however it appeared to me personally now like my personal faith that is bad to—as those Ron Jeremy sidebar ads so often promise—amplify my maleness.