FACT: Neither texting nor taking all of your clothes off will  resolve unfinished business.

But one of them is a lot more entertaining than the other. 

"I am on foot. Wearing all black. See you in 15."

It was Saturday. By the time, I hit Sunset Junction, the last embers of LA's magic hour had faded into the cool, ruddy gloaming. My favorite shirt was still on the lam. 

I fished a tiny lifeline out of my pocket. The screen is blank except for a hairline fracture. 

"Going in blind, naturally." The words slip out on the heels of an almost-icy but definitely strained exhale. "No worries."