Mostly, I go home alone but sometimes I let a man pick me up. This Friday, I was working my way through the crowd, stopping to talk to everyone there....The men all looked the same in their tight pants and lacquered hair, the yuppie crowd on the prowl.Then, I saw him sitting alone at the end of the bar.He was unique in this urban setting of twenties and thirties. I guess he was about fifty. His face was heavily tanned like leather from the sun which emphasized his sky blue eyes. He wore a long. Even at that moment I never fantasized about my mom. It was a mixture of my deeply rooted ethics and a sense of sheer improbability of such a thing ever actually happening that never got me to fantasize my mom. This was until destiny proved my assumptions to be completely wrong and the realization that the world isn’t as innocent as it seems to be. It was the beginning of summer with the exams having just ended. Sis was on a month-long trip to Paris. At the repeated insistence of my mom I. More

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