The Goddess of Gumbo

So I never real­ized what a city mouse I actu­ally was until a tall, hand­some, dash­ing stranger—the kind we’d all order up from Design-a-Man.com if we could bring our­selves to believe they really existed—invited me to sleep (chastely) with him under the stars in a bower of love and peace (just like Tris­tan and Isolde, …