Rub-a-dub-dub
I’ll get along a bottle of wine and if you’re good I’ll give you a backrub.” I read the text thrice. Go into contacts to check if somehow the name and number had got mixed up. For why would he, who I’ve met but twice, professionally, and who has hounded me seeking a follow-up meeting, assume he’s coming home? And when did he graduate from making presentations to making moves? I, for one, didn’t remember his last name, his face, or, for that matter,
his presentation.