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worried. Okay, not so much worried as embarrassed. Suzy had progressed from tears to sobs to all-out hyperventilation, and people were beginning to stare. I didn’t know what to do. I’d never seen anyone act like this, especially in public. She struggled to speak but her inability to breathe stood in her way. It was mortifying. I WAS MORTIFIED.
    I began to pat Suzy’s hand, the one not covered in mucus, and to assure her that there was no need to speak or to cry. That I was flattered by her reaction but that I didn’t want her to hurt herself. Maybe we should talk about something else—
    Did you know there’s only a three-gene difference between humans and chimps?
    Then through her sobs and drool Suzy managed to utter, “I can’t believe you’re getting married. Everyone’s getting married except me. I’m going to be the last single person on the face of the planet. I will die alone!!!” She continued to sob. People tossed
me
accusing stares. I didn’t know what to do. The maitre d’ asked us to leave. We hadn’t even finished our entrees. It occurred to me that what I’d mistaken for Suzy’s love, good wishes, and affection had in fact been a complete nervous breakdown.
    Then she made me split the bill.
    Now I really was mortified.

august 24th
    S tephen called his grandparents in New Jersey to tell them about our engagement. They were thrilled. He says they can’t wait to meet me. Apparently, after being married since WWII, only to witness their daughter’s marriage fall apart after thirty-five years and have her now ex-husband date a woman young enough to be his child, they view our marriage as a beacon of hope in a storm of a disintegrating generation. I am honored to oblige.

august 25th
    A beautiful arrangement of lilies was sitting on my desk when I arrived at work. I assumed they were from Stephen. A small token of his endless love. I saw a blow job in his immediate future.
    Congratulations and Felicitations on your recent engagement.
    Barry
    Barry is the office butt-kisser and resident troublemaker. If you’re late for work or leave early or happen to miss a deadline, Barry is the one to let everyone know about it. He’s nosy, obsequious, and calculating. Unfortunately, in addition to sharing a secretary, the ever-lovely Kate, we’re both Associate Features Editors, which means that someday, when Mr. Spaulding leaves, retires, or is secretly murdered in his sleep by Barry, one of us will have his job. Andthe other one won’t. Barry almost had an aneurysm when I got the “Faces in the City” issue.
    But today I’d barely been in my office five seconds when Barry burst through the door—grand, effusive, and smacking of disingenuousness.
    BARRY
    Oh good, you got the flowers. I ordered them the minute I heard the fabulous news. Congratulations. It’s just stupendous.
    ME
    Why the sudden interest in my private life?
    BARRY
    Don’t be silly. We’re a family here. You and I are like siblings.
    Cain and Abel, anyone?
    BARRY
    So have you set a date yet?
    ME
    No.
    BARRY
    Well hurry up and get on that. You wouldn’t want that man of yours to chicken out.
    ME
    Don’t worry.
    BARRY
    Who’s worried? I’m thrilled! Now tell me how Dream Boy popped the question.
    There’s no way I’m telling Barry about my concession-line proposal.
    ME
    Did you remember to wish Mr. Spaulding happy birthday?
    BARRY
    His birthday isn’t until June 15th. He’s a Gemini.
    ME
    That’s odd. He loved the birthday card I gave him this morning.
    And before you could say “brown-noser” he was out the door.

august 26th
    I ’ve decided to forgive Anita’s less than enthusiastic endorsement of my wedding plans and ask her to be my maid of honor. She’ll keep me laughing, honest, well dressed, and entertained—even if she maligns the concept of marriage in between shots of Jagermeister. Short of asking her to bear my child, it’s the greatest compliment I can give her. And honestly, she’s been my best friend since