Yesterday during a conference call one of my other phones rang and I sent it to voicemail, and blew it off until later in the evening. I didn't recognize the man, but he addressed the message to Jen or Jane and because I had forgotten which key I press for delete on Verizon—the same as T-Mobile's save, no less—I continued to listen. He said he loves his intended listener and hopes she isn't avoiding him, went over his day and mentioned missing her so much he kept looking at his pictures of her. On a barstool and fur skin, but I didn't mean to pry. Afterward I paused and thought, what if it weren't Jane, and I had all this time been involved in a homosexual relationship I can't remember, Jonathan Hoag-style? Could that explain my support for gay rights? Is there such a thing as fear of leading a double life?