Ben Savage is 28. I’m 23. I think I can officially declare that the age gap between us is inconsequential and that the mating ritual may commence. And I won’t be that creepy girl pursuing him who owns all the Boy Meets World DVDs (I don’t own them more out of laziness than anything) and lets the name “Cory” slip in conversation. Though I will probe whether I can call him Bennett. He’s 5’10 (my height, yay!) and went to Brentwood High School, who I played against in volleyball that one time. We could talk about politics, but only in brief spurts because the topic drawn out makes me violent, and I won’t go back down that path again. This could work.