I'd had quiet sex, and giggling sex, and sex so delicate it was like a soap bubble perched on the tip of my finger. He traced his fingers around mine as my hand rested on his knee. There it was, my big chance to get sex right again, and I went and screwed an asshole. We ate at a fried chicken restaurant, one of those trendy places where they served comfort food that used to be trashy. No chemistry.
I swear I was in love with myself by the time I finished, a bottle having morphed into a six-pack of beer, and I posted the hottest picture of myself I had:
How to Online Date When You're Stone-Cold Sober
This wasn't the first time I had tried online dating. They were too busy with Twitter and Facebook to pay attention. I'd gone nearly two years without sex. All my life I fought to say yes. I'd had quiet sex, and giggling sex, and sex so delicate it was like a soap bubble perched on the tip of my finger.