My whirlwind romance with Mr. Washington is over. Do you know those guys who tell you they love you after the first kiss? Who can’t seem to separate sex and love? Well, that’s me, only I have to be careful sometimes not to say it before the first kiss. It’s not that I can’t separate the two, they’re the same thing. Oh, so, yes, I can’t separate the two. Sex is never about anything but love, however briefly or squalidly expressed. I sent this carefully crafted note to Mr. Washington, outlining my desire and his appeal, how even though internet couplings are defined by instant messages and flashed body parts, I yearned for a fuller engagement that didn’t deny access to the rest of experience. He didn’t answer. The police would probably warn you not to engage with me. So here I am again, adrift out in cyberspace waiting for an analog lover to float by.
Welcome to Chris’ Flip Flop Courtship. Some alien race is observing my mating ritual even now and wondering how this could possibly lead to the successful reproduction of my species. They’re probably considering intervention.