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A couple weeks ago at the local watering hole, a pretty woman sat across the bar from me. She looked to be in her mid-30's, but when she started reminiscing about songs she'd played on the jukebox ("I remember this from tenth grade"), her age was actually a couple years older than mine. She had had plenty to drink that night, and she and her friend were proudly showing off their newly-pierced navels. She laughed, "This is my mid-life crisis!" She was very attractive, and it surprised me was there was no ring on her finger. Saturday night after writing and working, I went again for a couple beers before bed. She was there introduced herself as Judy, and she and Crystal (the night bartendress who'd had the evening off) had gone shopping during the day. Crystal went home to her family, and Judy motioned me over to her side of the bar. She was finishing one last drink for the night, and Tom (the part-time night bartender) called her a cab. Judy kissed me a few times, then wobbled off her barstool when the cab arrived. I helped her carry her bags out, when she asked me to come home with her. I carried her bags in, we smoked together and talked for a bit. She told me how much she loved art, painting and sculpting, but her husband forbade her from doing it. She hadn't painted in fifteen years. She cried, and I held her. As the night wore on, she let me know he'd left her for a stripper up in the Twin Cities. She lived with her two sons. She melted in my arms and we kissed very softly. It was the first time I'd kissed a woman since Kari, eleven months ago. |