I’ve decided the Bermuda Triangle exists. It is not in Bermuda, but in Los Angeles. This is the mysterious triangle that sucks up all the men you meet at bars. Night after night I go out, meet a guy I like (or two or a few), he gets my number and then he disappears in the next few days. If he changes his mind the morning after a drunken night, that is one thing. But instead he texts, we have a conversation and then he walks into the Los Angeles Bermuda Triangle. Where do all of these men go? And how does my conversation with them lead them into this mysterious vortex? To make myself feel better, I am going to explain it like this: my conversation with them is so fascinating, they are texting and walking, unaware of the Triangle signs all around. And then…they’re gone. I guess that makes me a mass murderer…but hey, at least I’m not boring.