After unclenching his jaw, he kissed me on the cheek and said good night. I walked through the turnstile in a daze, only faintly aware of the people around me. If I wanted to back out, now was the time. The journalist and I had met on OkCupid while I was touring the Southeast with my band. Every day we would text each other a single photo from our oddball work lives: a Nascar race in Charlotte; a tricycle factory in Queens.

Source: New York Times June 08, 2018 03:56 UTC