got on the j toward bushwick. pretty overdressed. heading to my third date with a guy named alex, which would be tragic in and of itself but i was also wearing a choker because he told me to. alex took some photos the last time we hung out-they were not good- but it was sweet to have him send them to me from his mother’s cabin in the berkshires over Thanksgiving. he said he was bored and reading and wanted to know what i was up to. i was on a date with a reporter turned social worker named ricky who eventually cooked me dinner in his own bushwick apartment, but alex doesn’t know that. and wouldn’t care. he’s freshly divorced from a woman he met at burning man and has a ten minute TED talk on the internet about seeing faces in inanimate objects, so im not going to be disillusioned
