Notes on not kissing after two beers
Tereza Jarnikova reflects on a brief encounter.I MET JOHANN on a Greyhound bus going from Boston to the nation’s capital. I was, I admit, looking for small talk, and there’s a certain type of bearded friendly face that seems to invite that sort of thing. He was lounging in the furthest back seat, wearing a torn shirt, fully at ease, and the seat next to him was one of two empty.
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