IN THE AUTUMN OF MY SENIOR YEAR IN UNIVERSITY, some guy from my seventeenth century–literature course asked me away. We saw a film concerning the Vietnam War and went back again to his house that is rented for alcohol. He had been quirky and attractive, but we had been rigid and abnormal together, and I also remember thinking, that we probably shouldn’t go out again as I sat on his couch.
Then their roomie, Henry*, arrived house from their date. It absolutely was the ’80s in new york, and every person had a night out together on night saturday. Henry behaved like he’d just gotten away from prison.