I experienced a long, unavoidable car ride with a co-intern this morning. Seeing as to how it was 8 a.m., I would have been quite happy to surrender the one-hour drive to Top 40 radio than to idle chitchat. The co-intern — a college graduate with no tact, depth or real job — felt otherwise, of course. A quick summary of questions she apparently felt are appropriate to ask a complete stranger:

• "Can I ask you a personal question?"

• "Are you straight or… not?"

• "So, when did you first realize you were, um, what you are?"

• "How did your parents react when you told them you were… you know."

• "Are you dating anyone? Who's your type?"

Oh, my fucking God, just shut the fuck up. I do not feel like sharing 10 words with you, let alone my life story. Please return to your trashy Maryland suburb and never turn back until you have mastered pronunciation of the word "gay." Augh.