Today I had the privilege and pleasure of eating lunch with "Just Craig" Sorensen. (That is, I only had lunch with Craig Sorensen. Lunch only with just Craig. That is, I had lunch with Craig Sorensen only. Glad we got that settled.)Craig was waiting for me in the parking lot. I had no trouble finding him—it seemed a sign had been, um, erected to indicate the designated assembly point for male smutters. (Note to self: I must speak to them about this unfortunate habit of placing gratuitous apostrophes in simple plurals.)
Things did not go quite as smoothly in the bookstore, however. As you can see, a bit of a gentlemanly scuffle occurred between me and Craig (only) over possession of the lone copy of Kristina Lloyd's Split that
we found in stock. When a sales clerk attempted to resolve the situation, Solomon-style, by suggesting we split Split, she met with four erect eyebrows. Obviously, the poor, ignorant fool didn't realize this was Kristina Lloyd month!
we found in stock. When a sales clerk attempted to resolve the situation, Solomon-style, by suggesting we split Split, she met with four erect eyebrows. Obviously, the poor, ignorant fool didn't realize this was Kristina Lloyd month!Craig and I were pretty sure that our lunch had occurred in Pennsylvania. Imagine our surprise when we looked around a short time later and discovered that we had somehow wandered into Sommer Marsden's own Maryland! Could it be that our strictly-literary conversation about various female erotica authors had distracted us from paying attention to where we were headed?
