Her hair was all wild and tangled, like she’d stuck her finger in a socket. I felt drab and old, and had to rally myself to hang in there, to continue to think about what a ridiculous situation it was to begin with.

“Oh, yes, you do,” I said. “Don’t be coy with me. Don’t hide there in your little lemony haze. I know your number.”

“You know nothing,” she said, and then I can’t quite remember what else was said. I am pretty sure I told her that she was a little idiot and that you were a big idiot. I know I kept my hands in my pockets the whole time because they were shaking. I was more Marsha Mason/Jill Clayburgh, but I was trying to channel my best Glenda Jackson/Anne Bancroft, so somewhere in there I said, “Fuck you,” at least twice, and then the last thing I said was that maybe after she fucked her way around the block several more times and gained some self-awareness, she might (I emphasized “might”) be intelligent enough to have a conversation with me.

Then I turned and went to the door. I said, “I won’t hold my breath,” and she made some snide remark about my “behavior at the faculty party,” and before I could say anything else, I felt the jar of the door slamming behind me.

The winter air was as brisk as a slap in the face, and I did something I have never done and probably never will again. I walked into a small bar there in Cambridge, all by myself before noon, and ordered Irish whiskey, my father’s drink, and then I sat staring out at the cold gray day. I realized then that my hands were still shaking, and when I looked into the dark mirror over the bar, I saw that ugly face we all make when trying hard not to cry. So I took deep breaths and replayed the whole scene in my mind. Nothing about it made me flinch, and no part of me regretted saying what I had said. I still felt superior in that moment. I thought if that was what you wanted, then you had no business with me. People don’t get stolen. People leave. They make choices, and choices have consequences. I said those exact words to you later that night, in fact.