She is one of my many, many crushes. But please, do not tell Ms. Farangi, to whom I am undyingly faithful. She is a jealous wife, and would kill me for honor’s sake.

Do you remember the soiree at Josh/Thisbe’s house where Sheasdlfjasdo demanded we bail to visit low-class Iowa City bars? As we walked away, discoursing on Radiohead and the popular versus scholarly understandings of the term “Islamic Fundamentalism,” we attempted to recruit that large gaggle of more mature and dignified folk to accompany us.

Dear Ms. Sittenfeld was the one to explain to us, pateiently, that we were staggering idiots, and though we were amusing, she’d prefer to hang with us when I, at least, smelled less of whiskey, laser toner and hookah smoke.