When I was out at my fire pit one night, drinking a cold glass of Chardonnay and thinking about my next work project, I mindlessly eavesdropped on the people in my neighbors’ yard.

Someone yelped, “Virgin!” and my ears perked right up. All thoughts of the ad campaign I was working on fled. I tried not to be obvious as I poured myself a little more wine and leaned toward the fence that separated our yards.

My neighbors’ son, Josh, was home from college. It was his voice I heard growl in response, “Jesus, Bob, say it a bit louder.”

“But girls hang all over you.” Bob laughed. “And you’ve never tapped any of that. I mean, seriously?”

I imagined Josh, who’d always been a cute, sweet, polite kid, blushing in the darkness.