Sodom and the Madonna

7 years ago with 14 comments
“What on earth am I doing?” is what I completely fail to think, as I position my hand so that when the portly-but-attractive bartender (has he been giving me the eye, or is it my imagination?) puts my glass back down on the counter, his fingers will make contact with mine. It works — can’t have been by accident, he could easily have avoided the touch — and I also ...