Pat told everyone that only her parents called her Patricia. So she was Pat to Sandy, and to James, the older gentleman she became friends with. Those...two she loved to chat with everyday. They were both writers too, of course. She had made it a habit to only make friends with fellow writers. That seemed safer somehow. Finally she had about thirty-five "friends" and only a few were what she would call real friends. These she trusted. Well, really, she trusted everyone on the site. Maybe that was. The conversation ran almost out of control. We talked about much, but it all led back to our respective busy travel schedules. We each confided in the other that it's difficult to connect with the opposite sex. We 1/2 giggled; 1/2 lamented.I finally said, "Look - you were interested, and I certainly am. Let's get together!" She sighed, as though relieved. "Oh, thank you for saying that. I didn't want to, for fear you'd think I am a slut! Yes, let's get together!" She drove to my hotel - we. More

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