“I’m stuck on this algorithm for finding the shortest path for the salesman.”“This is a module on recursion?” I asked.“Yes.”“What’s ...appening with your program?”“It never finishes. I have to break out of it.”“So what does that tell you?” I asked.“I’m not sure.”“Think it through,” I said. “Something is preventing it from finishing. What could that be?”She shrugged so I asked her to step me through her logic, first without her program printout in front of us, then with it. It took about thirty. Confrontation wasn’t our thing, but she was waiting for me when I got home. “What have you got to say for yourself?” she had demanded. “About what?” I dodged. “Stop it! I’m not an idiot. Stop treating me like I’m an idiot!” She slung her purse over her shoulder. Her keys were already in her hand. “Fine. Then stop acting like an idiot. Since you say you know everything, I don’t need to say anything. I’m not going to defend myself.” She practically stomped up to me. Fists at her sides, she. “I like the ‘me’ idea a whole lot more than the wine.” I kissed Brita, and we melted into each other like two fluids coalescing in a hot looking mixture, until we were only one.Brita’s bedroom was also modern with great art. She had several large photographs done in an artful way over the bed in a staggered pattern on the wall. In each there were three nude people – two men and one woman. In the first, the woman had two cocks in her mouth. The woman was Brita. In the second, both men were. This is getting to be more and more of a trend and I wish that I could get my boss to buy of on it. I had to drive around a bit before I found it, but she lived in a nice house on a tree lined street. I got out and walked up to her door, noticing that someone had obviously done a lot of yard work recently. I rang the doorbell. It was one of those old fashioned twist knobs that had a REAL bell. I hadn’t seen one of those in years. I was expecting someone in jeans.