Why the Italian Waiter Made Me Cry: Confessions of a Reluctant Celibate

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The author with Italian Waiter (left) and his son (we thought? on the right). Editor’s note: I think everyone who was working this restaurant was related and they were all this beautiful.

It was a gorgeous early evening in San Diego. I suppose most early evenings are gorgeous in San Diego but as I am from the Midwest, it was a particularly luxurious experience for the sky to be so blue, the clouds to be so white, the air to be so fragrant, the breeze to be so delicious on my skin. This is how I experience the world. Sensorially. Sensually. Sexually. Read full post