James met Carrie at an evening dance class offered by the university recreation department. He was 18. She was 32. He was just starting his second semester as a college freshman. She had just returned to college after divorcing her husband. It seemed they had absolutely nothing in common, except their isolation and loneliness.
James lived on campus, but did not have the type of personality that made him popular. He was interested in the wrong things, he was outspoken when he should have been quiet, and too quiet when he should have spoken up. The other dorm residents dismissed him after a few days, ignoring him and cutting him off to fester in isolation.
James had a roommate who was studying physics and totally anti-social. There was nothing for them to talk about, and before long, he felt uncomfortable even being in the same room with the sullen math-head. He returned to his room to sleep, but that was it. He spent his free time wandering around campus or around the college town, full of resentment at having been shut out of the university's social life.
James' sexual urges were at their peak, but that only led to more frustration. He was not the kind of guy that women his age found attractive, even though there was nothing wrong with his physical appearance. He just did not have the self-confidence and other personality traits young women find desirable, so the attractive 18-year old females all around James completely ignored him.
James thought about how to deal with his situation. He felt that if he could just find a girlfriend, most of his other problems would straighten themselves out. Throughout the fall he tried various clubs and even a couple of church groups, but always got the cold shoulder because it was obvious he was there for the wrong reasons. Finally, after Christmas Break, he decided to try learning how to dance. Maybe dancing would help, because he knew women like to dance more than guys do and dancing was a good way to meet them. If he could dance, perhaps he'd have better luck...
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Carrie had worked as a waitress for the last couple of years following her divorce. She had drifted in and out of church groups. However, she was faced with the stigma of being a divorced woman and couldn't stomach listening to doctrine written by anti-social men sitting alone in caves in the desert 2000 years ago. She couldn't picture being a good Christian wife to some patriarchal wannabe. Already she had endured more than her share of unpleasantness in her first marriage. By the time she met James she was alone, and had been for quite some time.
Unlike James, Carrie really had no good reason for taking the dance class. She knew how to dance just fine, and hardly expected to meet a partner there. She just went, mostly because she had nothing better to do.
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Most of the people at the class were couples, so James and Carrie paired off by default. At first they didn't see much in each other. She struggled not to roll her eyes at his horrible performance with the steps, while he was somewhat intimidated by his older dance partner. Still, she showed him some moves and worked with him that first night in class. He made some limited progress as he struggled to please the only woman who had paid any attention to him since he started college.
During the following class they paired off again. James had not realized it, but throughout the week he had been vaguely looking forward to seeing Carrie. Perhaps she was 14 years older than him. Perhaps her lined face and cynical expression were not points in her favor. However, the fact remained that she had been the only female over the past week who had talked with him for more than a few seconds.
Carrie's interest in James began during the second class. He seemed so immature and helpless, so naïve, and yet, there was something about him that attracted her.
After the class was over she decided to talk to him a bit. Being a waitress, she was experienced with making small talk. In Carrie's life, small talk often led to bigger tips, because if a customer looked upon her as a friend, chances were he'd open his wallet a bit more.
When they stepped outside, it was bitterly cold and they really had nothing to do. She bought him a soda. A soda. Ha! When she had been 18 she could have bought a beer, because back then it was legal to drink at 18. Well at least legal to drink beer, at any rate. The law had since changed, and her companion would have to settle for soda.
James was in no hurry to say goodnight because he did not want to go back to his room and deal with his unpleasant roommate. He didn't know where else he might go once he said goodbye to Carrie, but he didn't want to go back to the dorm. She picked up on that. Suddenly, on the spur of the moment, she decided not to say goodnight. Instead she asked him if he would like to go over to her place for a late dinner.
At first James wasn't sure he wanted to go to Carrie's place. She seemed OK, and was reasonably attractive, but she was so...old. Really, she was almost twice his age. Also, there was something kind of weird and creepy about her. However, the bitter cold and unpleasant dorm situation convinced James that Carrie's place was his best option he had for the evening.
Carrie had a small house to herself. It was a guesthouse built behind a much larger residence that belonged to the mother of her supervisor at work. In exchange for her very cheap rent, Carrie looked in on the older woman every afternoon, helped her clean up, and picked up her mail and groceries. The guesthouse was old and looked like it needed some upkeep, but it was a pretty good set-up for someone who earned only slightly more than the minimum wage.
When James entered the small house, he noticed how old all the furniture was. It turned out that all the furniture were items that had been discarded by her boss or his mother and relegated to the guest house. It seemed kind of depressing to James, the dark house, the battered mismatched furniture, and Carrie's empty existence. But then, was his isolated existence in the dorm any better?
