LAST MONTH, I went on a very successful “friend date.” We had a few acquaintances in common and had talked briefly at parties. I had a hunch about her, that there was a future for us, and so I asked her out. We met at a mutually convenient bar, summarized our pasts in that frantic, practiced way that people do—skipping the boring parts, dramatizing events that end with punch lines. We were recklessly candid and very smiley. I walked home, ecstatic, and told my boyfriend all about it.
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