I hated asking for help. It made me feel stupid. "Yes, of course. I actually have another class after this and then I must get going to a seminar, but...maybe tonight?" "Oh, if you're busy-" "No, I'm fine. When are you free?" "I have work until six-fifty." I replied. "Then seven o'clock?" He didn't look up at me; his eyes were fixated on the stack of papers on his desk. "Perfect. At the library-" "Just meet me at my place. It's 2049 Hudson River Drive." He said, finally meeting my eyes. My knees. When you’re having dinner, what do you talk about?”“I think we talk about typical date stuff – where we grew up, went to school, family, favorite TV shows.”“Okay, but do you try to get to know the woman? Do you ask questions that help you understand her, and what makes her tick?”Roger thought about the question for a minute with a somber look on his face. He then answered, “I guess not. We usually talk about factual things, but not about our feelings or interests.”Dr. Franke then offered his. More

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