Dating

L’s husband is having second thoughts, and I’m at sixes and sevens.

Once in a while, my catholic tastes bring me into contact with women who remind me of a me I’d rather forget.

She wants to see me again because of a kiss we shared. Only problem: we’ve never met.

A cold ruins a perfectly good evening with S and the Dude.

A first date, a hand on a thigh, and a kiss on the street that promised more.

They want to fuck my wife, but not me. I didn’t take it well.

I “met” B on OKCupid. Exotic looking, a bit younger, and clearly a bit self-conscious about her figure, and her ass in particular. I haven’t met her in person yet, so who knows if I’ll agree with her harsh judgment…

Our plan:  go to a panel discussion on the representation of sex in “Mad Men,” conducted by a bunch of psychoanalysts; then, meet M and J, an Upper East Side couple who responded to a CraigsList ad; and then, go…