“I’d never thrown myself through a window before, but I knew what to do in theory. The answer is: don’t do it.”

“It’s just that… I’m wanting to start dating myself.” I saw Gina’s eyes bug out. “I don’t mean dating myself. I’ve been doing that for ten years now. It’s gotten to the point where I buy my left hand chocolates on Valentine’s Day.”

“The room was deathly quiet. Maybe because I was holding my breath. You know that feeling you get when you know you’re doing something that you shouldn’t be doing but you’re doing it anyway? I felt that if someone were to sneak up behind me and go “Boo” that my heart would say “Fuck it” and just stop beating. I told myself to think of something else. Think of that gorgeous young man who had served us at dinner. Think of how he’d look naked. Okay, maybe don’t think of that. The only thing worse than being found in someone else’s room rifling through their things would be to be found in someone else’s room pleasuring yourself.”

“My hand found its way back to her knee. I hoped it was to comfort her. I’d hate to think that my right hand was straight. “Soon. I’ll call her this afternoon and get back to you.” She nodded. I removed my right hand, thankful that I was left-handed. I’d hate to have to try masturbating with a straight hand. It probably wouldn’t cooperate. And then where would I be?”

“If I’m to be a ghost,” I told Caps, “I’m not haunting your aunt’s gloomy old place. I’d choose someplace livelier, more fun.”　　“Such as?”　　“A gay bar, of course.”

“I’d like to put that day off as long as possible. You saw the guy at dinner. He’s Satan without the horns. Hitler used to get advice on how to be nasty from him.”

“I smiled. “Nick, this is my dead boyfriend, Robbie. If you can’t see him, at least you’ll be able to see the salt carton hanging in mid-air. My dog is a zombie, and I’ve got a friend that’s a witch.” “Oh,” he said in a very small voice. I nodded. “That’s pretty much what I asked you over to tell you. So, what’s new with you?”