Paris, 1122 W. Montrose: Aimee, the love reporter, who travels all over the globe gathering stories of the human heart, had asked her friend Ann to take her to Paris, one of Ann’s former haunts. Aimee and Ann used to work together before Aimee became an internationally famous love reporter.
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Aimee asked Ann to tell her love story. “About six years ago I decided it was time to have a woman,” Ann said. “Previously, as you may recall, I was involved with my philosophy professor from Loyola. He really turned me on to feminism. He took me to this Cris Williamson concert. It was the place to be, but I was humiliated to be with a man. He yelled, ‘You just want to be with a woman,’ and I said yes, and then he got a job at NYU and I slept with an assortment of men I didn’t know–busboys, delivery boys. One was from Iran who wanted to marry me. We slept together twice. I said get away from me. Then there was a Japanese guy. They were all foreign.
“I slept with her but it was kind of awful. A month later I was volunteering at this women’s clinic and there was Becky who I thought was cute. Now, I just wanted to sleep with her. I didn’t want a relationship with her. I thought she was straight. She didn’t look like a lesbian.
“At the end it was really bad. She was out all night once. I was in the bathtub and I freaked out when she came in in the morning. Then that woman with the MBA sent her a bouquet of red roses for Christmas. Then Becky started wearing this gold ring. We really weren’t sexually compatible. I liked handcuffs and stuff but she didn’t.
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