N. Likes

I have more in common with Jeffrey Dahmer than I’d like to admit.

Strip clubs are like shrines to a notion of male desire that is almost completely unappealing to me.

Intelligence, confidence, complete submission, grammar, yoga pants, and a very long list of other things.

Shakespeare got something about lust that Steve McQueen didn’t.

Newt Gingrich, open marriage, and some things you and I both know but rarely say out loud.

A loss neither of us wanted, imposed from without.

I direct her from across a crowded hotel lobby, texting instructions while businessmen in khakis steal glances at what they can’t have.

You like me! You really like me!

A budget midtown hotel where you can rent a room by the hour — and where every detail reminds you that’s exactly what you’re doing.