As the disturbing movie plays, we power through the popcorn like we’re starving and drink the entire bottle of wine. And like a true gentleman, he lets me eat all the half-popped kernels. Then, he grabs my legs and, resting them over his lap, massages my feet, all the while quoting lines from the film. The act is so thoughtless, so genuine, that tears rush to my eyes. Never have I had anyone bring me flowers, set up a movie, and rub my feet. It’s not something I even imagined for myself.
