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  • New on Nerve: Installment Six of Crying in Restaurants, by Sarah Hepola

     
    As you may remember from previous installments, Sarah cries a lot. But in this installment she doesn’t weep in a restaurant. She cries in other places, but by the end of the story her tears have dried up and been replaced by something else – love, fulfillment, hope; whatever it is, we’d all be lucky to have stories that end like this. Read the essay here, or start from the beginning.

     


  • From the Archives: Essays by Ada Calhoun and Sarah Hepola


    Ada Calhoun and Sarah Hepola have written some terrific pieces over the years. Below are two of my favorites. Both essays discuss, in different ways, what women are really like, how we feel and act and are, not how we wish we were or how we think we should be. They are smart, concise, penetrating, compositions that will take far less than six hours to ingest.

    Ada’s piece from almost a year ago, The New Prudishness: “The columnists [who say we live in an oversexualized world] seem to be of the opinion that sex isn't supposed to be messy, or icky or to involve things like online porn or spring break or stupid shoes. But it does.”

    Sarah’s series “Crying in Restaurants,” first installment: “Sometimes, when I cry, it's because I've lost sight of what I want. And I feel so ripped up between what I want, what I thought I wanted, what other people want, and what I want to want that it's like this twelve-car pile-up.”


  • New on Nerve, 11.6.2007: Sarah Hepola's "Crying in Restaurants"


     

    Crying in Restaurants is a series by Sarah Hepola about … crying in restaurants. Today’s piece is the fifth installment.

    5. Try not to involve the waitress. She's had a long night. She's probably a very nice person who would like to do nothing more than kick off her heels, do a bump of coke and lose an hour or four at the bar before going home to her loft and boning her scraggly indie-rock boyfriend. So leave her out of this. But sometimes you mean to, and you can't.

    Like when she comes to take your order, and you say, "Do you think I should have the fish or the steak?" and the man you are with says, "Order whatever the fuck you want," and then it's like the air was vaccuumed out of your lungs — why is he talking to you like this? — and the tears gush out before you can even stammer a response. You're just going to have to work the tears; they are no longer optional.



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The Insider is your guide to the best of Nerve. Here you'll find the inside scoop on the latest features, photography, interviews and video, direct from Nerve editors. (Plus a glimpse at what goes on when the lights go out...Nerve events and parties, and more!)