It's Raining Men

Don’t drink and text.

Even on the cusp of forty, I had to learn that the hard way. After discovering my best friend—who I was supposed to grow old and single with—got engaged, I drowned my loneliness in one too many Old Fashioneds and woke up with thirty-nine responses from every available man in my phone. Including my plumber.

Apparently, my liquor-infused text said that while I don’t need a man, maybe I’d be down for a constant sidekick for movies, plus-one invites, and dinner on the table ...