We sat around the fire last week, sucking down cigars and talking about the various romantic weirdnesses in our lives. When I finished, Gary regarded me for a moment, then spoke.
"John, are you a 'bad boy'?"
"No."
"YES!" screamed Kiki from the house. "HELL YEAH."
This cast a pall over the proceedings. Kiki was unable to explain to my satisfaction why I deserved the title. "It's like porn. I can't define it, but I know it when I see it."
To me, "bad boy" is how a weak woman explains her continued devotion to a cheating, unemployable wife-beater. No?