T-- showed up on my doorstep this morning.
“The nineties called,” I said. “They want their clothes back.”
“Shut-up,” he told me. “I’m not allowed to do laundry anymore.”
The new girlfriend, he explained, has been very clear about what guys do and do not do. “I can’t cook,” he said, “and no more grocery shopping. I’ve been eating dry cereal for three days.” Tears welled in his eyes.
“Are you about to cry?”
“No,” he said. “Guys don’t cry.”
I invited him inside for a turkey sandwich.
“It will be better tonight,&rdq...
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