19

God, she had to pee. Lynn was sure whatever he still had to say was fascinating, but her bladder was too distracting. She had been trying to leave for the last hour, and she'd finally made it to her car door, but her boyfriend, Bob, trailed her, talking the entire time. It was too late to ask to go back into the house, and, really, all she wanted was to go home.

"Bob, it's so late. I gotta go," literally! "I had a nice time..." Lynn rolled her eyes as Bob's words rolled over hers. She seriously thought that maybe he had Asperger's Syndrome and couldn't read others' emotions or empathize with them. At all.

He reached to pull her into another too-tight hug (all his physicality was too tight or too rough--must be another aspect of the Asperger's) and she backed behind her now-open car door. "Bob," she said firmly, "it's 2:30 in the morning and I am leaving. I had a nice time, but I'm going because I have to drive and I'm tired. Bye!" Lynn swiped a peck on his cheek and slid, careful of her full bladder, into the driver's seat. Bob held onto the car door, leaning partway in, still talking.

Lynn wondered how difficult it was going to be to break up with him. He didn't seem to hear her, and she was finding it harder and harder to hear him. Her ears were tired. She put on her seat belt. She started the car. She shooed Bob from inside the door and finally managed to close it. He tapped on the window. Lynn blew a kiss, ignoring the twirling "roll down your window so we can talk" gesture, and drove away. She imagined Bob still talking as she reviewed the terrain from here to her house, wondering if there would be any place with a bathroom still open.