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GRANDMA BARBIE

“Barbara,” said Grandma Barbara to the car salesman. “My name is Barbara.” It was 1994, a week after I wrecked my white Pontiac LeMans, rolling it like a hard boiled egg down an old country road. After my parents refused to co-sign on a loan to... read more

SCRUFF TRILOGY: THE WEED GUY

I thought The Weed Guy was catfishing me. He was a tall, beautiful, muscled model in Harlem with a perfect smile and a washboard stomach. All of his photos appeared to be professional shots, straight from Men’s Health magazine. He talked me into giving him my phone... read more

SCRUFF TRILOGY: THE PEE GUY

In the summer of 2014, a dumb boy broke my heart. The details of the situation are irrelevant. All you need to know is that my ego was incredibly bruised. So bruised that I ate an entire triple layer carrot cake in an hour. So bruised that I cried like a baby the... read more

NEW YORK VIRGIN

The first time I visited New York, back in 1997, I stayed at Hotel17. It’s where Woody Allen filmed Manhattan Murder Mystery and Madonna shot some photos for her Sex book. I was there for two weeks and they never once cleaned my room, changed the sheets, or gave... read more

THE BITTER NEW YORKER

Allow me to preface this bad date story with a disclaimer: I don’t have a poker face. I’m a shitty liar and an even worse actor so when I don’t like something, it’s written very plainly across my disgruntled face. Last night, I had a 2nd date... read more

AN INTERVIEW WITH GRANDMA

My Grandma Joyce will turn eighty four years old this spring. Her hearing is shot and she doesn’t have the svelte figure she had in her heyday but she does still have the white-blonde hair cascading in tight curls around her made-up, smiling face and she still has a... read more

CONFESSIONS OF AN UNSENTIMENTAL MAN

I’m not a sentimental person. I don’t save birthday cards or movie ticket stubs. I’ll easily part ways with photos and play programs and trinkets and charms. I don’t wish upon stars or any of that malarkey. On New Years Eve, I don’t get... read more

THE GIFT

I wanted to comfort my mother. She was sad and I was not sure what to say. I quietly held the phone to my ear as her words melted into agonizing sobs. What do you say to a woman who has lost her son? I missed him too, and wondered why it hadn’t reduced me to tears as... read more

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