i've never wanted anything

anna brings home a new person every week for us to meet.

tonight it's a tall boy, rake thin. he's wearing dress pants, a white dress shirt and a tie and he has a sweater ties around his waist. he can't keep eye contact with me as we're introduced. his hands pick nervously at his pants, at his swater. his feet are tapping restlessly.

"drugs? heroin? crack? speed?" the vox likes to imagine things. but it's none of these.

"mike likes humanities people." anna tells me, laughing impishly.

"so do i." i respond, slowly retreating form the twitchy boy in front of me. "especially when they're younger than me."

and yet another reference to the boy. ha- it's still amusing to me.