Already proud months earlier, evening before first meeting at subway when returned to empty apartment (parents were out for day). Watching something with sister—BBC Jane Austen adaptation—seduced by satisfaction of knowing something she would be horrified by, if she knew. Fact of having secret most important thing. Male friend of hers was dating older guy. Different with gay people, she guessed. Continuing watching Keira Knightley’s alternatingly placid and tortured expression.

About 45 minutes to get to town where parents empty house is: manageable despite traffic in early evening, but suburbs are unfamiliar, no way of telling how much further. Never saying anything, let alone asking to get out. He, seeming to pick up, keeping saying “almost there,” listing names of suburbs, familiar from drives out of city and for which no detailed mental map exists. Others in city itself, of course. But space always at premium and even if one apartment or other free, having to take subway and risk explaining where/what going/doing: less workable. N- explained parents in real estate business, so house always being renovated and they on vacation to avoid noise and chaos. But that basement room unaffected. He: still living at home and working for family business, started by grandfather from Italy.

Met N- online when 14/28, grown child of suburbs. Having had chance to internalize lots of snobbery and superiority by that point: easy to direct at him, even though his parents had pool and definitely made good money renovating and selling houses. His hair gel: not cool. House music: never heard of. When looked up club he mentioned: not hard to tell from graphic design that would take effort to learn to like.

(Hegel never actually says that, though. Cicero does say that good feelings make bad habits die hard (or (and?) is it vice versa?, De Fin v.25))