Solo Contendere

February, 1995

I am so lonely I could die. I wake up, realize I don't have a boyfriend and put my head in the oven. I go to the supermarket, fill my cart with Lean Cuisine entrees for one, then am too demoralized to let the cashier see the pathetic contents of my cart, so I slink away. I go to parties, night classes, museums, various clubs and mixers with my eyelashes curled hopefully and am wracked with disappointment to find only more hopeful women with curled eyelashes. I go to dinner parties and my throat...