It was so weird when I dated that middle aged substitute teacher last week. We went on 4 dates and they were all fine. So I wrote about each one. I sent them to my publisher and by the next Sunday they were in The New Yorker. 

I got 27 texts, emails, and phone calls. He did not like what I wrote. 

All the boys I dated before wouldn’t have seen me like he did. They do not read The New Yorker.