No car, no licence, and this city is harder for it than people think

I cannot drive. Never learned, never had the money to learn, and by the time I could afford it I had lived here long enough that it seemed pointless. It has never been a problem in my life except in this one respect, where it turns out to be a bigger obstacle than anything about me as a person.

Twenty six, the east, three years in, one dynamic of eight months that ended for ordinary reasons. What I have discovered is that a great deal of this happens at hours when the trains have stopped, in places the trains never went, and the answer everybody assumes is that you drive there. I do not, so I plan.

Here is what planning looks like. I know the last train back on a Friday, I know the night bus, and if something runs late I will simply stay awake somewhere until the morning rather than make anyone worry about me. None of that is a hardship. It is only a fact somebody should know before she suggests a Tuesday out past the end of the line.

What I want is structure and correspondence between meetings, because if the meetings are going to be limited by geography then the rest has to carry more weight, and honestly I think that suits me anyway.

Not looking for a woman who will tell me to learn to drive. I know. It is on the list, behind two other things, and it is not this year.