boyfriends

Searching for Mr. Right

Tara Taghizadeh

There was the good-looking freelance writer who lived in Georgetown who swept me off my feet, and with whom I enjoyed a whirlwind, and mainly physical, romance. And the nice but eccentric librarian whom I knew briefly, who on our first date invited me to watch an obscure film, which he later said was “a test” to see if I would pass. There was the Stanford graduate student who turned out to be untrustworthy, crass, and lacked emotional integrity.

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