Dress = Art supplies
It was not Sting's fault. It was also not mine.
But I have often thought that this song playing, as we danced toward the end of that New Year's Eve party, made that guy all the more determined that he not go home alone.
I'd said, so many times already, that I did not want to go home with him. I barely knew him. Call me tomorrow, I said. Ask me on a date.
He argued and insisted, argued and insisted. My gut said: The more someone pushes, the quicker you get away from him. And: He doesn't care what…