“You know, you’re pretty much the reason I’m a lesbian now.”

The vodka and soda went sour in my mouth. I had been admiring the Millers’ sitting room and its blanket of Christmas decorations, enjoying a pleasantly benign conversation en route to the bar for a refresher. No one likes to engage in rigorous discourse this time of year, given the perils of balancing drinks and hors d’oeuvre plates while negotiating around furniture.

Then she dropped that shit on me.

“You’re a lesbian now?”

“Yep. You were the last guy that I almost dated, had you actually made good on all that talk, so it I guess it’s on your shoulders.”

“Jenny, that was in high school. Ten years ago!”

“Well, I haven’t been with a man since then.”

First of all, who thinks like that? And who enjoys such uncomfortable social confrontation? Jenny does. The reasons for brushing her off years ago began to resurface, and I felt my cheeks flushing. The bar seemed miles away.

“Well, sorry for that. Hope you’ve made a good choice.”