“Whether there’s a grapefruit or not, I’ll be happy to get a blow job,” he said, which is a fair point if I’ve ever heard one. “There would be a grapefruit involved in the blow job.” “No, with an actual grapefruit,” I said, assuming he thought it was some kind of euphemism. He looked at me mischievously, smiled and nodded. “Do you want a grapefruit blow job?” I asked my boyfriend, barely looking up from my phone after reading an assignment email my editor.