After all, with a job spent on her back, why would she want to do that in her off time?Remembering the feeling made her tingly inside. Marissa frowned... trying once again to push Alan back into one of her many business compartments. After circling the casino floor a couple of times, she registered at the slots desk, picked up a "club" card and sat down at a machine to start earning points towards comps.After a while (and down a few bucks) she looked at her watch. It was almost time to meet him.. Down in Massachusetts. This here is my story. Am I paranoid when I assume the white man or white woman I see giving me funny looks is a closet racist who means me harm simply because I’m brown-skinned? Am I wrong to feel uncomfortable when a white male or white female in a police uniform stares at me too long? Am I evil for thinking that if there were no white people on the planet, the world would be a better place and the human species would be better off? So many questions, so little time.. “He reminds me of my ex-husband, Rob.”Lynn would hear my story about my corporate married husband, Rob. He was married, but only to the place where he worked. The first year of our marriage was good, but not great. We struggled to make ends meet. I was just hired by an ad agency in Phoenix, and Rob continued to bust his balls for a promotion that would never come at the accounting firm.By the end of our eighth year of marriage, I realized it was ending and I desperately grasped at straws to. "That was out of the blue, until I remembered another time when she'd said something like that. That time I had stuck my foot in my mouth and she hadn't talked to me for a couple of days. Jill had patched things over, though. So I probably should have just smiled mysteriously or something and left it at that. But oh no ... I just had to try to tease her."You sure do talk about sex a lot," I said."I do not!" she snapped."This isn't the first time you've accused me of trying to get in your.