We go inside and get the tour of a small one bedroom. She's been there only a few weeks; there are unpacked cardboard boxes stacked in every corner of every room.

The way she talked made me anxious. She had anxiety in her voice, it made her consider each word she said. Because of the consideration she gave each word, everything she said seemed to be imbued with an importance it did not deserve.

She had this clipped delivery, accentuated and made strange by the slight polish accent that stayed with her voice.

We went out. There was a festival on Lincoln Street, which got in the way of walking directly to the bar and the restaurant we wanted to go to. Hundreds of people. Guys in polo style shirts, girls in small tight shorts, maybe a white dress if they were dressing up. It's about seven thirty, and I guess you could say the crowd was drunk.

She didn't drink. So J and I were letting the drinking go for now. Me, I was pretty much content to hang around with two hot chicks. It's funny when other guys give you that look. I've given it out before. The look that says: "How the fuck did this guy hook that up?" Don't ask me, dude. I just fucking take it as it comes.

So she keeps saying the wrong thing. She's always choosing the wrong word to say. There's vomit on the sidewalk and I say that she should watch out.

- Oh I know. I ducked!

Later we're at the bar and she's bummed by the mostly identical Lincoln Park residents. She leans over to me.

- I'm just stuck looking at everyone's forceps!

Later on in the evening, I manage to insult her, and I am instructed to only call her by her full name for the rest of the night. This is an assignment that I begin to relish.

We're still at the bar, and J is excited to play a drinking game that I learned called "I Never". (I know that one reader is familiar with the game.)

You say something that you've never done. And if the others have done it, they drink. If nobody has done the thing, everyone drinks. I thought it would take a few rounds before it escalated into sex crazed conversation; luckily, I was wrong. It was early on when J brought up anal sex.

Eventually J got wasted and said that we should start asking questions instead. Which was really the use of the game anyway. By this time, J has forced me into a booth, and I'm sandwhiched between J and her.

I've never really known what Snoop Dogg felt like before, and I have to say, I kind of liked it. So then we made the complete metamorphoses into degeneracy.

- Oh man, I mean I must masturbate like five times a day, she says.

They start talking about different uses for their vibrators.

And then she says - I'm starting to get kind of wet!

- Dude. You guys are starting to give me a hard on.

It's better not to stand. It gets worse when she admits that she masturbates at work.

We're at the beach. I don't know why. Earlier, she kept saying - Look at that face!

J keeps bringing up Ed Norton. (Ed Norton and I are cursed with identical hairlines and foreheads, once every month, someone comes up to me and says- Hey - Did you know that you look just like that guy in Fight Club. Oh yeah, I say, the loser with blood in his mouth at work? Never heard it before. I find it hard to take it as a compliment, mainly because I don't think it is one.)

And so J keeps telling the two of us that Ed Norton is hot. And that she really thinks Ed Norton is good looking, and that hasn't she thought Ed Norton is really hot, and that she thinks that Ed Norton is kind of cute. And I get to say why don't you just fucking cut out the middle man, here, J, and just say I'm hot. And then we laugh. Case closed.

So we're at the beach, and she's asking me if we can pee together. 'cuz she's got to go, you know. It's a joke, so we laugh.

They take a little time to marvel over the fact that I can pee standing up. Facetiously, I mention to her that she too could experience the feeling. I would stand behind and put my penis between her legs, and then she would know what it was like. So we're all laughing. And it took me a full twenty four hours to process this statement:

- see then I'd just put it between you legs,

- Weren't you going to do that anyway?

- and then you'd know,

Dude. I'm being hit on. But I don't really believe that she's anything more than a tease. Besides, her eye wanders to other guys almost as much as mine wanders to girls...

Congratulations if you made it this far, faithful reader. I give up. To be continued. Or not.