I met Danny the same way I meet most of the guys I date, at a bar.

Danny was this much older guy, 37 to my 22, and although he had a wife and kids and a house in the suburbs, he fashioned himself a hip “down with the kids” kind of guy. And the truth is, despite his big, burly exterior, workman’s hands, and old-world Italian sensibility, he got along pretty well with our younger, artsy crowd. He spent so much time in my neighborhood that he knew more about it than I did-what parties were going on, the hot new restaurants, where to meet all the cute waitress chicks. He was on top of it all.

So one night I was at this divey local bar getting trashed with some friends of mine. I got introduced to Danny briefly at the beginning of the night because one of my friends had invited him, but I... Read More