Simone Gitman wants to help me find God. A petite brunet with ocean-blue eyes the size of half-dollar coins, Gitman sits cross-legged next to me on a brown sofa with oversized cushions in the canal-front home she rents in Victoria Park. Dressed in gray sweat pants and a blue tank top that reveals the outline of her braless, diminutive breasts, Gitman puts her left hand on my chest as I breathe... More >>>