Hey, Lisa. Yes, I did get your phone messages, and I am so sorry I didn't get back to you right away. I'm glad you agreed to meet me for coffee, though, because we need to talk. See, I was sort of confused by some of the things you said on my voicemail: "Hey, that Kurosawa festival at the Orpheum was extended another week if you want to go." "There's a new Cuban place on Eustace Street. I'm free Thursday evening if you're interested." "Hi, Len, it's Lisa. Call me."

Since we only met last weekend, I didn't really understand all this chummy familiarity. It took me a while to figure it out, but I finally realized that a big misunderstanding had occurred: You think there's something between us. Lisa, you're a really nice, intelligent, attractive girl, and I'm truly sorry to have to say this, but I didn't mean to lead you on last weekend by fucking you.

Please don't feel embarrassed. Some of it, admittedly, is my fault. Looking back on my actions, I can see how there may have been one or two things that made you think I was reciprocating your advances. Like making out with you in that back booth of the bar for 40 minutes. Or how, when we came back to my apartment, I slowly undressed you in my bedroom. Or how I kissed the nape of your neck and shoulders and caressed your bare breasts with one hand as I stimulated your clitoris with the other. Or maybe it was that half-hour of intense cunnilingus before our extremely gratifying intercourse that gave you the wrong idea. I guess I can see how all that foreplay might have been misleading.

Lisa, please don't be offended by what I'm about to ask, but have you been with many men? If you haven't, it's okay—that's nothing to be ashamed of. It's just that, well, a more experienced woman would have quickly deduced from my body language that the fucking wasn't leading to anything. For example, as you were straddling me, I never squeezed your buttocks; I only rested my hands on them. And it's a universally understood notion that when, after climax, a man gets up to go to the bathroom, then goes back to bed and falls asleep with his body turned facing the wall, he's not interested in pursuing anything with the woman.

I sense you're upset and embarrassed, and I'm genuinely sorry. That's totally understandable. You misread the signals I was giving off. If it makes you feel any better, I, too, have misread cues plenty of times. A few months ago, I was sitting on the bus when a pretty girl came aboard. As she walked past, she made extremely brief eye contact, then sat in the seat behind me. Naturally, I thought she was hitting on me. I turned around, smiled, said hello, and began chatting her up. It wasn't long before I started putting the moves on her, but instead of returning my amorous advances, she told me to get lost. So, you see, Lisa, I've been there. The only difference is that in my case, I was definitely being hit on. To this day, I firmly believe that girl was flirting, putting on the coy act. What I misread was the extent to which she was a little tease.

My point is, I know what it's like to be on the other side of that scenario. I just wish someone had set me straight like I'm doing here with you. I had to learn it the hard way.

Okay, I was hoping I wouldn't have to say this, but you've forced me to be more blunt: I don't find you sexually attractive. You're just not my type. You're definitely cute, but I prefer tall, long-torsoed women with freckles on their shoulders and small, pert breasts.

What do you mean, "That describes me perfectly"? Maybe you should find a full-length mirror and take a long, hard, honest look at yourself. Sometimes, our self-image can be severely distorted. I'm not judging you—we're all human and have our frailties. But, Lisa, you're not tall and long-torsoed. Five-feet-nine is not considered tall for a woman. Perhaps in Asia.

Look, I think we're getting into some of your personal issues that don't need to be addressed here. Indulge me on this final point, and I'll let you go. This is no great loss for you. You seem like a lovely girl, and I'm sure you'll find a man very soon. But next time, try to be more aware of what that man is thinking and feeling, and you'll spare yourself a lot of pain. From the angle at which he puts his penis in you to the way he post-coitally strokes your hair, there are many signs a man gives off that will communicate whether he's truly interested in you. The sooner you are able to read them, the happier you'll be.

So let's be friends, okay? Now, how about a hug? No? Come on, don't be like that.

Although, I must admit, your little hostility act is giving me a hard-on. What? Come on, there's no need to get upset. It's strictly a platonic hard-on.