Against Ivory's Will  I'm with my friend Ivory Alshire in her room. I want to kiss her. We carry on a lively conversation. She says she wants to hug me. I know this is a friendly, lovable-type hug. I tell her I don't want to hug her, and I don't want to hug a lot of people. I don't tell her why, but my reason is that if I hug her I'll want to kiss her more than I already do. I kiss her. We aggressively kiss and embrace each other. I move my hand down and rub her crotch on the outside of her pants. She moves my hand away. I move my hand back to touch her again. She gets mad and reprimands me, saying I don't listen. I feel guilty: I've done wrong. I wasn't taking Ivory's words and actions literally, directly, or seriously, which is how she meant them. I change from my hiking boots to my snow boots to leave and walk home. I tie the right boot before I put it on my foot, and have to untie it to put it on, and then retie it.