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I’ve mostly followed that old adage, “Don’t shit where you eat,” so I’ve not done much pussy prowling where I live. But as I’m probably moving I decided to chuck that thought and leave the condo complex with a bang-so to speak. Marissa (24, a salesperson in a mall department store) and I have been casual acquaintances for a year or so, ever since she moved into her (deceased) grandma’s unit downstairs. But we got chummy at the condo association’s 4th of July fling, and I really thought I might get laid-for my own, private pleasure, not yours-till one of the old dears had a heart attack on the dance floor, and that killed Marissa’s brewing passion stone cold. (The old gal’s okay now, if you care.)

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