"I guess not," she continued. "You were so afraid of me. You will never want to remember those days, I'm sure. I was barely old enough to drive a car and I was one of the only girls fresh out of high school who wore mini-skirts with thin cotton halter-tops crawling up my chest in ways my breasts couldn't control. And who could forget those sandals? I'd paint my toes dark red thinking about nothing except you, the GRAMMATRON man, the cool Net artist who always ordered his groceries to be delivered from Nuts & Bearings. Why do you think I got the delivery-chick job? Whenever your name came up I'd fight for the run and the dispatcher, who had a crush on me, would give it to me. 'Watch out for those dirty old men,' he'd say to me and then, on my way up the mountain, I'd slip out of my uniform and put on the sexiest outfit I could invent. And then you invited me in to some party...which wasn't really a party..."