The following was entered in a short story contest; one day too late. I would givethe prompt, but it would kind of kill the plot. Enjoy.

My family didnt believe me when I told them about Chase. He didnt quitematch up with the unsavory lineup of men I had bounced to and from during the last 18years. It wasnt just that being unmarried in my mid-30s strained my ego and sense of self-worth, it just seemed inescapable that every guy I tried to make something happenwith wasted my time.It all started with Charles. His controlling nature, which made me feel like I wasback in kindergarten with Mrs. Jendrowski (decades later I still have nightmares aboutthat crazy bitch), should have been a large enough red flag. But no  I was 18, naïve, andI thought, in love. It took me six years to realize I was really in love with his mother.Well, at least the lifestyle she gave us. Weekly trips to the opera, the theater, dinners inNew Yorks best restaurants. It made this farm girl from central Pennsylvania feel likeshe had arrived.But it came at a cost. Charless constant complaining made life miserable. Andhis once muscular, stout body turned into limp hills of cellulite. Even worse, hisexcessive hair made me feel like I was making love to a Yeti. Five years of that nightmarewas enough.So then came Roger. He was as sweet as his mind was simple. He treated mewell  flowers, dinner, the movies. Beautiful gifts. Soft kisses. But sadly, no brains. Whenyoure a PhD in philosophy, you need mental as well as physical stimulation to sustain arelationship. I needed someone who knew Leviathan was not written about a sea

creature. What do they teach in undergrad philosophy class? So after 9 months, Iwanted more.And I found more with Garrett. A successful Manhattan lawyer who knew how tomake a woman feel wanted. Too wanted. Flowers once in a while make a girls day.Flowers twice a week make me want to burn down all the floral shops on the Upper EastSide. His irritating pet names for me like, Squeezy Lovey Snuggely Bear made methrow up in my mouth as I was trying to teach my intro to Philosophy class.Next was Buck. Do I really need to say anything more?Jacob was sweet. And short. A great drinking buddy, but not a great breedingpartner. My children must be smart, cute, speak with proper diction and have enviablemanners. With Jacob, I would have gotten one out of four. Last time I date a C student.There was a string of flings in-between, not worth mentioning really. Especiallybecause it all fades away with Chase.It was late, and my friends and I were just about to leave the bar . He was tall,with dark, thin hair that crowns his muscular, bony face. He spoke with eloquence onhistory, philosophy, with a knowledge that rivaled my colleagues. There was an intimacyin the way he described these topics, as if he had witnessed events such as Waterloowith his own eyes. His pale skin was cold, and as I held his hand I felt the adage aboutcold hands, warm heart, might actually be true.Chase shared my love of the night life. He took me to Tavern on the Green,Aureole, and Silverleaf Tavern. I didnt mind that I couldnt seem to get in touch withhim during the day. The adventure began every night.