by Derek GRAY

You: vir­ginal blonde, 18?, Quik­Trip park­ing lot; low-rise jeans ex­pos­ing thong as you stooped to pick up dropped bag of M&M’s be­fore get­ting in­to your fa­ther’s Jaguar. Me: bald­ing, pudgy and sweat-drenched but cute, 29, buy­ing lad mags and bean bur­ri­tos. Lunch?

Filed under Letters on January 22nd, 2004

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