The Escape Room

by Megan Goldin

I had an overwhelming urge to stop talking, get up, and walk out.

“She was trying very politely to let you down easy. You’re not her type. You’re at least ten years too old and thirty pounds too heavy. Plus, you’re at least two inches too short. Probably in more than one department.”

Pretend inferiority and encourage their arrogance.’ Sun Tzu, The Art of War.”

“Men never act grateful; we always complain,” said Sam. “It doesn’t matter how much we’re blown away by the amount, we always look disappointed. Like it’s a major financial blow. Like we’ve been screwed over royally. Women act grateful, and that’s a fatal mistake.”

“I take each day as it comes,” Cathy said, her voice unsteady. “It sounds trite, but I don’t know any other way to keep going. It’s like putting one foot in front of the other. Eventually, you realize that you’re walking, but you don’t know how you managed to move so far and you’re not sure where you’re going. That’s how it feels right now.”

I’d become a cocktail waitress on a cruise ship and try to hook a sugar daddy.

“This isn’t a clue,” he said, his voice trembling. “It’s a declaration of war.”