Astrogirl at the gym

So: we've decided to get in shape, Astrogirl and I.

Our physical trainer is Larry, a handsome six-foot-three dynamo of sinew and good looks.

After our workout, in Larry's office, Astrogirl asks Larry where he's from.

"Dallas for awhile," he says. "And then D.C."

"Oh," Astrogirl asks, impressed. "You mean Washington, D.C.?"

Larry looks at me, then at her. "Yes. Of course, I didn't live in the city. A little while in Maryland, a little while in Virginia."

He excuses himself to Xerox our nutrition plan. Astrogirl looks at me. "Did he say he lived in D.C. or not."

"He commuted," I say. "Have you heard of an exurb?"

"Like a passage from a book?"

"No," I say. "That's an excerpt. An exurb. A bedroom community."

"Oh," she says. "You mean like a sex town?"

"No," I say. "Like a commuter town."

"With sex."

"No," I say. "Just a commuter town."

She says, "Do you think he'd be embarrassed if I asked him if he lived in a sex town?"

"Sweetheart," I say. "He'll tell you he didn't live in a sex town."

"I guess," she said. "Something like that would be embarrassing."

"Except," I said, "He didn't live in a sex town."

"But you told me he did," she insisted.

"No," I said. "You did."

"Oh."