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We sat on the patio, watching women walk by in dresses like neon Band-Aids, and he told me about his recent experiments with bisexuality. I drove out to Denton in 5 pm traffic to hang out with him, and we walked around the tiny picturesque square (“the poor man’s Austin,” someone would tell me later) and bought ice cream at one of those places where you can test a million flavors and it’s so hard to settle on just one.