There will come a day when you meet this man. I bet his name will be Bill. Somewhere his shirt will be monogrammed. The better Bills will have initials at the wrist. The trick is to know right away that this man will play golf one day, every day, and do so middlingly. He will absorb and take away some of your light, not forever, but you could have gone to Capri with that light, you could have used it on a night with a man who plays the guitar as a tertiary skill. You could have shone a ray of that light on the construction workers on Fifth. Know right away that the construction worker who hoots at you in your white summer dress will treat you better, will make you feel gorgeous on macadam. Of course, the construction worker will only treat you better when you’re a passing girl on the street. Don’t fall for the grass that’s greener on the other side. It’s only greener until you own a dog together who pisses across it.