.." Marcy!" I interrupted."What is it, Darling?" I didn't agree to go to the book signing." But of course you did. You said if I didn't hear from you ...y last night it meant you'd agreed to go. I called Harold with the good news late last night. He was waiting to hear with bated breath!" Marcy exclaimed, almost pulling off her sincere lie.I chuckled. My fault. If I hadn't answered her call I wouldn't be in the predicament I was in. "I haven't talked to Sasha yet." Talked to me about what?" Sasha. Shit. I need to act like I’ve been in the Copa Room dozens of times, not like some star-struck high school girl.“So, just what do you do here?” he said, in a suspicious, uneasy tone.“I’m a cocktail server in the high rollers area,” I deadpanned back in a confident, dismissive inflection that I clearly wasn’t feeling inside. “The next time I see you there gambling, you’d better remember to tip me good,” I said with a playful, sensual, flirty smirk.His solemn face split into a wide grin.“For you. Alan was spending a lot of time writing stories and poetry, and was pretty good at it. That’s how he came to Beckey’s attention. They discovered they lived in the same area and began to meet in person. They began having an affair, and Beckey got Alan a membership in the Yacht club, where he met and became friends with Randall. “About a year ago Alan met some people who had a product they wanted to bring into the country and it couldn’t go through customs, if you know what I mean. Since. I had always considered myself straight (despite the cross dressing and panty obsession), yet had been growing more curious as I got older.A few years ago (in my early 20s), I was flat sitting for friends while they were away, and I was on the Craigslist casual encounters section (more out of interest than looking for anything, I was alone and bored). I saw an ad about a Netflix and maybe chill ad from a bi guy a similar age who sounded sane and fun, so ended up just messaging to see what.