“So what are we going to watch?” somebody said. We were all taking places on three red couches a Manhattan apartment. I sat down with my girlfriend Becky, I put my arm around her. Her skin was soft.
“It’s called My Secret Desire. It’s Woody Allen’s latest.”
I looked across the coffee table at Jenny. She smiled a brilliant smile. Outside, it was a hot summer night.
“What are we watching tonight?” somebody asked as we were sitting down in the living room of a Miami home. I sat close to my girlfriend Jenny and she gave me a smooch on the cheek. I could feel her nimble energy as she did.
“My Secret Desire. It’s my favorite Woody Allen movie.”
I smiled at this girl Linda, as I imagined myself slipping her panties off.
“What’s tonight’s feast?” I asked as I took my seat next to my wife Linda. She stiffened. We had a huge fight the night before.
“It’s a Woody Allen oldie,” said Tara.
“Let me guess the title,” I said and I gave her a knowing smile. She looked back at me and made a farting sound with her mouth. Outside the window, the moon set into a sea of cliches.