At a night out at Joey’s Brickhouse, a guy asked for my number. He was very persuasive and aggressive, so I obliged. Mind you, I had several drinks floating around my liver and I couldn’t quite remember what he looked like. Also, he was sitting down when I met him. Needless to say, for weeks he txted and called trying to take me out. Realizing that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, I agreed to meet him for a drink at his condo on a Sunday night. I figured that way if it went badly, I hadn’t given up a prime night anyway.

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