As he sipped his beer, Jason took stock of his situation. He was 57, newly divorced after twenty years of marriage, and without any firm plans for his future. The divorce had come so suddenly and unexpectedly that he had had little time to adjust. Coming home early from the conference and finding Julie in bed with his colleague, Tom, had been bad enough, but the separation and divorce that led to the disruption of his daily routine, and indeed his entire life, had been even worse. Over the past few months it had been difficult to maintain his schedule of classes, lectures, and writing, but he had somehow managed. Now it was Spring Break and he finally had a few days to clear his head and begin planning for the future.
That is how he came to be sitting at the bar, alone, drinking this, his second beer of the evening. For the moment his mind was clear and he was relaxed. He paid only slight attention to the din that surrounded him, though he was aware that nearly ever stool and table was occupied. He had wandered into this bar because it was the closest one to his office. He found it suitably small and dark enough to fit his needs, but, because it was close to the university, its clientele was young and fairly loud. He would have preferred a quieter place in which to mull over his situation, but for now this would have to do.
After 20 years of marriage, he now felt fairly lost. Through the years of his life with Julie, he had thought that he would always be married. Now he was not. He had never given thought to contingency plans or to a future alone; there had simply been no need. And yet, now here he was, alone in a bar with only uncertainty before him.
He swiveled on his stool to look behind him at his fellow patrons. Some were town folk out for a drink after dinner before heading home. Most were students--young, vibrant, intelligent, with their whole lives before them. His scan of the room confirmed what he already knew. He was not like them. Actually he had never been like them.
Jason was a geologist, and he dressed the part. He wore jeans and a cotton work shirt, the same outfit that he wore every day except on those occasions when he had an important meeting, and even then he just put on a tweed jacket over his work shirt. As he scanned the faces in the room, he realized that he possessed the only facial hair to be seen. His full, gray beard set him apart from the younger men in a striking and unsettling way. HE had never made friends easily, always focused on his work, preferred to listen when in groups rather than participating, though he was an active conversationalist one-on-one. A frown crossed his face as he thought for a moment about these qualities and how they might impact his ability to find companionship in the future. With a shrug, he turned back to his beer and, for the moment, pushed aside any fears and doubts that tried to wedge their way into his thoughts.
As he ordered his third beer, he noticed that the stool beside him was now occupied. The woman sitting there was in her early 40s, attractive but not beautiful, with carefully coifed red hair and wearing a long, dark skirt and a fitted blouse that highlighted herfull breasts. He noted that she was not wearing any rings, and the thought flashed through his mind that she was probably meeting someone who would arrive at any moment. She turned toward him and smiled and they exchanged pleasantries, and then they returned to their respective drinks.
Jason thought about this woman, wondered if it was even worth attempting to start a conversation with her. It had been so long since he had been in this situation, and he had never been very good at it, but he decided to press forward for the practice if nothing else.
"So, do you come here often?" he asked lamely.
"No, first time. And you?"
"Mine too."
