House Of Wands

He never says anything to you except for a cursory How Are You, and he doesn't even wait for an answer. After that, he simply walks away, to answer another call or drink his protein shake or talk to his personnel.

He is great at Ignoring You while still managing to Look At You When You're Not Looking.

He is a busy, bothered human goldfish in his office, where everyone looks through the clear glass that make up his walls, watching him work.

He works out while you do. You try not to stare too longingly at the sweat beads that trail from his nape to his chest. His crows' feet are so deep that it looks like real crows had actually trodden there. He is old, like all the rest, all these men whom you find attractive, old but still virile in the manner of Bono, Sean Connery and Ed Harris.

You are decidedly Lolitian in your proclivities. When it comes to your men, you who have barely scratched the surface of time at 25, you do not have an age ceiling. You have an age floor.

You are, in the words of a wise friend, a lolo lover.

Then there are the women who say they desire you. Sometimes they are even more attractive than you are. One of them tells you, you are beautiful, and leans in for a kiss. Part of you stops - can I do this? - then the rest of you stops altogether.

When it's over, you're surprised to find that you are still whole.