“I’m having a good time,” I say out loud. I’m having a better time than good, and I’m going to make sure it keeps getting gooder and gooder. But I like to keep a few cards to myself.

It feels like we’ve been emailing back and forth for years now. It’s only been two weeks - maybe twelve emails cumulative - but it might as well be years. Is there anything less romantic, less erotic, less arousing than an email? It doesn’t matter how much pornography is in the email, an email is an email and they are - by nature - flaccid.