Welcome to Friends and Benefits. Follow our sex and relationships columnist into the lives and psyches of men and women, young and old, gorgeous and tragic, divine and insane. All names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the bachelors in question.
The rain was whimpering as I stepped out of my car in a parking lot in San Diego’s Balboa Park. I was dressed in a sweater and pleated skirt, and I was looking for Jerome, a tall, handsome, not-quite-a-stranger.
Jerome and I had “met” two years before on a Craigslist housing page for would-be New Orleans residents. There, he’d posted a well-written advert for a roommate; I had been curious about living in the South, so I emailed him. Though neither of us ended up moving there, we remained in loose touch, sending epistolary emails with yearnings, music recommendations, and geographic updates.
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