On the outskirts of town, two headlights carved gently through the night.  Soon gravel crackled underneath their tires.  The muffled sound of indie rock music announced their arrival as they glided up the narrow drive.

“Don’t worry, nobody’s home,” he assured.  Always the gentlemen, he hustled around the front of the car to get her door.  A gesture that never failed to impress her.  Just one more reason to feel guilty, she thought.

They walked around to the side door, where he pulled a key from a small crevice beneath the exterior faucet.  Once inside, they made their way up the staircase to the upstairs bedroom.  What lay inside was a bachelor’s paradise.   A lava lamp glowed from a desk below a poster featuring a voluptuous bikini model.  On the other side of the room was a love seat, positioned strategically between a stereo system, a flat screen, and a mini fridge.  A king-sized mattress covered by a neatly folded blanket was sprawled across the hardwood floor.  And, of course, a stripper pole.

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” he invited, nodding at the couch.  He strolled over to the mini-fridge.  “Can I offer you a drink?”

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