“How was the shrink?” Addison asked, sitting back down and picking up her fork to eat her tiny square of white fish. I found a plate tented with foil on the counter and got myself a fork. “Fine. I complained about Dominic Diamond.” “He’s a fuckface,” Addison said. “Do you wanna vodka about it?” Addison’s willingness to (1) curse, (2) drink, and (3) talk about sex like we didn’t grow up having accountability partners to make sure we weren’t thinking about genitals ever at all had been really strange at first. And then it had become incredibly freeing, because I realized all the things I used to
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