Roy Davies was jogging through Sunshine Bay Park with his friend Patrick, enjoying the swish of the dead leaves that swirled out of his way as he passed.
This was the sixth week in a row he had been running again, and every week it got easier. Today he was going fast enough to feel a trickle of sweat run down his back under his fleece jacket, but slow enough that he could still speak. Well, sputter. Which is what he did when Patrick brought up his favorite topic.
“Why don’t you come out with me this weekend? You can be my wingman,” said Pat.
“Wingman! Are you nuts? I don’t want to hang around with you while you cruise for your next conquest.”
“Come on, it’s not like that. I just need someone to come and have a drink with me at the pub, maybe chat up a couple of women if we happen to me
