Let’s say you are a businesswoman. Every day you organize the files in your Gucci briefcase and travel to your corner office, where you make your company more money than seems fair in today’s climate. While the economy might be rebounding, well, your love life is still a bear market. As you sit behind your gigantic mahogany desk, you wonder if the restrictions you’ve placed on yourself have negatively affected your prospect, like your best friend claims. While no one would call you a prude, you have a firm rule against sleeping with someone on the first date, unlike some other girls you know. It has never crossed your mind that you might, in fact, be worse than the other girls. Much, much worse. While you barely have enough time to fit in a personal life between all of the business meetings and business dinners and business cocktail hours you have to attend, one night you find yourself at comedian Jim Norton’s apartment. His place is so beautiful, you almost gasp out loud. In fact, you do, like you are struggling for air. You can feel your iron-clad restrictions start to loosen, as if your pant suit has really been a suit of armor all along. Jim jokes that he keeps clothes in the oven, but it is not actually a joke; you can see them, folded neatly on the racks. You stare out over the New York skyline while Jim mixes you a drink. Do you see your own face reflected back to you in the glass? Or do you see only his state-of-the-art kitchen with stainless-steel appliances? Have they already become one seamless image in your mind?
