In the post-Fucking Amy aftermath, while I sorted through all my sad and stabby feelings, all I really wanted was someone with whom I could do dinner and a movie. This person couldn’t be male, because…well, what’s the point of talking to a guy? I’ve never known. Elizabeth served as my movie buddy for a time but then had the audacity to move away. Then came Bonnie, who had to ruin a good thing by deciding that my depression was irresistibly attractive. So I next tried the safety of a married woman, who, you guessed it, was eventually attracted to the world's most challenging fixer-upper. I'd known about both cliches—women are attracted to men they can fix, people are attracted to the emotionally unavailable—but until this time of my life, I'd never given it much credit. I do now.
And so it was on to a lesbian movie buddy. Gennifer and I were already work friends who went out to dinner from time to time, so movies were a natural extension. That couldn’t fail, right? We went out several times, and she told me all about her partner and gayness in general. Score! What a pleasant distraction from the steaming abyss where my soul used to be.
“So,” she said one day while picking nervously at her Phad Thai, “I’m thinking about trying men…”
And that is how I learned to love going to movies and dinner alone. As a bonus, I can tell texters off without mortifying anyone I know.