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" And in the middle of it all, as he’s pounding away, you detect a note of caring, and from him it’s worth the world. Because you know somewhere in there is the key to every happiness you could ever hope for, if only he’ll let you grab hold, and turn it, and open up his heart. But in truth, all he lets you grab hold of is his ass. And then the pounding is over, and though it was good, damn good, ridiculously intoxicatingly good, that’s not all you were looking for. But by the time the glow has faded, he’s retreated into his own little world and you are put in the position of a shrew, begging for more. "
― William Lashner , The Barkeep