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Quote by Katherine McIntyre

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Strength Check

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Katherine McIntyre

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“She doesn’t date. She understands how the dating arrangement works for other people, but finds the idea illogical for her own circumstances. Dates, as opposed to catching up with friends, assume that one is available and interested in some sort of a connection ranging from casual sex to marriage and including everything in between. Firstly, she doesn’t feel single. She doesn’t feel alone, and so the idea of searching for some person to fill a space doesn’t make sense to her. Secondly, she reads most people very quickly. The thought of dating a stranger in an awkward, draining, and undetermined situation to find out what sort of person they are, even though it is usually obvious, makes her cringe.”

“I usually don't know these women. I literally don't know their names sometimes. More often than not, I meet them when I step into the car my manager sends to pick me up. And then the minute we walk into whatever venue we're going to, they go talk to Leonardo DiCaprio or Andy Cohen, or one of the Desperate Housewives-" "Do you mean the Real Housewives?" she asked as an impish smile overtook her face. "I mean, maybe they're snubbing you to go talk to Teri Hatcher...”

“We window-shopped along Court Street, the closest thing Brooklyn has to Manhattan, perusing the indie clothing boutiques, bookstores, and Italian bakeries, and stopped at Frankies 457 Spuntino, a casual Italian restaurant that every young Brooklynite loves, to pound fresh ricotta, gnocchi, and meatballs. Afterward, I dragged us ten blocks out of the way to hit up Sugar Shop, a modern-retro candy store I loved, to load up on malt balls and gummies. We strolled the magnificent blocks of Victorian homes and green lawns in Ditmas Park, as if suddenly transported from the city's whirl to a faraway college town, perusing the rhubarb, Bibb lettuces, and buckets of fresh clams at the farmers' market, before demolishing fried egg sandwiches on ciabatta at the Farm on Adderly, one of the boroughs now-prolific farm-to-table restaurants. We shared pizza at Franny's: one red, one white, both pockmarked with giant charred blisters from the exceedingly hot brick oven. In a borough known for its temples of pizza worship, before it closed in the summer of 2017, Franny's was right up there, owing to the perfect flavors oozing from each simple ingredient, from the milky mozzarella to the salty-sweet tomato sauce to the briny black olives.”