i'm pretty certain that my mother had an affair with our neighbor frank, who worked as a pilot for TWA out of logan. our families would travel together sometimes, and frank would joke around and center his car over the median line, 'forgetting' that he was not on the runway. he was so alcoholic and hot -- the guy who told me that young men were 'Master' and not 'Mister'. i totally get it now.

hands like puff pastries.