It was such a lovely day here. I took my shaky 99 Volvo down to Wayne, and met a friend for a walk. We spend two hours talking about how to market newspapers, the current state of the newspaper biz, various idiots we have known, and the endless mystery of male-female communication. He is not at all a believer-gently, he kids me about certain "design flaws." An introvert, he crafts his wonderful stories and then goes home to blissful solitude and his happy marriage.
With his street smarts, and his exuberant maleness, and a wonderful empathy and deep appreciation for women, he is able to interpret the peculiar ways of malekind to those of us single women who need to try to understand them-me, in particular. We can get pretty earthy when we get together-but all in the interest of anthropology, you understand.
He is like a big brother-honest, challenging, but protective. Don't get so jaded by the cads that you miss the real one, if, by some miracle, he comes along, he advises me. I don't know that a broken computer, a wet dog and a staggering car await me-and I leave full of the contentment that having a good guy friend can bring to a woman who protects her deeper thoughts almost as fiercely as she guards her heart.
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