Part 1 “God, what a putz,” I said to Dack Jorsey. We sat on..

Part 1 “God, what a putz,” I said to Dack Jorsey. We sat on circular pillows in his glamor yurt in a little town outside San Francisco on a cold November day. “I know,” he said solemnly, and took a hit off his DMT pen. We sat in silence for a bit as he mini-tripped. I went on. “You must feel like Alex Trebek leaning over the ramparts of heaven watching someone who got famous off what you’ve built take over. But at least there’s no girl from Blossom who turned out to be an anti-vax slut shamer.” “Ken Jennings isn’t a misogynistic troll,” he said dryly. “That we know of,” I returned. “I can’t believe there are people who honestly think the guy who fired employees for discussing unionizing will make your platform less censorious. You’re the only one who allows boobs.” “Boobs are great,” he smiled, finally. “You really did build something fantastic,” I smiled back. “I mean there are more Nazis than would be my preference. But nothing’s perfect.” I was playing it cool, but we both knew I wanted him. It had taken me months to get here. Months of effort. Of finding the right people and charming them just enough to get me one stop closer. I’d been so bored with San Francisco. There was no one I wanted to connect with. Except him. I was planning to move back to Alabama soon. Before I left, I thought, I should try to bag him. Now here we were. Straight, single men don’t usually give me their time if they don’t also want to give me their dicks. His was mine to lose. I’ve never been good at flirting. Or seduction. It hasn’t been necessary for me to learn, so I just haven’t. But I’m also impatient and wasn’t going to wait for him to make a move. He might be the type to like to stay up all night talking. I like to go to bed. “Well, something might be perfect,” I said in a tone I hoped read as suggestive. I added a little smile for effect. I crawled closer. I took the pen from his hand and laid it on the rug. I leaned in for a kiss. “What kind of girl do you take me for?” he said instead of kissing me. “I was hoping for a dirty slut,” I said. “Like is supposed to attract like.” “Who doesn’t like those,” he replied, smiling.