I’ve made a living in a rather peculiar manner over the past few years: by writing about relationships. Unfortunately for me—but fortunately for my career—I always seemed to have a crazy new dating tale to tell. Like the one about the accomplished scientist who’d had a thick shaggy mane in every picture he’d posted online—though in person he was about 94 percent bald. We sat down to dinner at the nice restaurant where he’d invited me to dine, and he promptly ordered a banana
, despite the fact that “individual pieces of fruit in phallic...