Several years ago, I was in my mid-20s, and met up with some friends to see a band. I was traveling solo that evening, which I guess made me feel free to wander around and make conversation with whomever I saw. After the band I was there to see finished their part of the show, I found myself talking to a woman I knew a little; she was someone from the same scene if not the same circles — we knew people who knew each other, and it seems like we had chatted in that context once or twice. She was one of those people with a good attitude about their crappy situation. She had a dumb sort of service job, took a few classes every year, but remained friendly and positive. She was heavy, and average-looking with fine strawberry blond hair and a nondescript haircut. Her clothing priority seemed to be comfort: baggy sweater and jeans with boots. I wasn’t particularly attracted to her, but I guess that made me a little more… effusive. I was not trying to impress; I was just responding to a friendly person, named Lisa.