“Having already been in the process of filing him away, burying him with the other men who evaporate after pulverizing my cervix, I am relieved, and yes, I am ashamed. I want to say that I am not that kind of girl. Portable, contorting herself over an inaccessible, possibly disinterested man, but what if I am? There are worse things - factory farming and Christian rock and the three-dimensional animation of Mr. Clean. Because maybe I don't want to be cool. Maybe I want to be all-purpose. Maybe I can't pretend to be aloof to men who are aloof to me. So I text him two hundred words' worth of things I know about baboons and I play Rebecca's voicemail again with this exchange still fresh.”