What Playing Pool With a Retired Stripper Taught Me About Men

I’m bad at pool, but I’m good at listening.

Photo by Clayton Ewerton on Unsplash

When I was in college, I used to take the train to visit my boyfriend in Hoboken, New Jersey. He’d pick me up in his rusted white Toyota Tercel and we’d listen to Wynton Marsalis CDs while he drove me to his two-bedroom apartment that smelled like bleach and weed.