Mixed Signals
After talking to D, a lawyer (my favorite) on Grindr, we set up a date before a birthday dinner I had to attend. At least, I thought we set up a date. I showed up to his Chelsea apartment wearing velvet pants and my best wool jacket; he answered the door in gym shorts. (We met at his apartment, in his words, to “decide where to go.” I should have known better.) I sat down,...