Even if I was in the market for a man, which I don't need to remind you I am not, Neil would come somewhere down the list from Charlie Manson." Manson...s dead." Quite." Neil was a colleague of Natalie's who had met me once when I joined one of her office outings to a local pub. He was in his early forties, balding and possessed of the worst breath I've ever smelled on a biped. Within ten minutes he had asked me out no less that three times. I found myself getting ruder and ruder to him as. I followed her into the back seat. The conversation to the restaurant was light with several pauses, my right hand laid across the back of the seat, left itching to be anywhere but on my lap as the dim light of day started to fade. As we pulled up to the restaurant, I asked the driver "Can you pick us up at 11?” my hand reaching for hers to help her from the car. We only had 10 minutes before we were seated, we talked just as we normally had but something was different. We followed the host to. More

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