Things have not been going well.
My wife left me in March for a man who is 11 years older and has no steady job. He is scrawny, mostly bald and has a wispy ponytail.
At work, sales are down for the third quarter in a row. My boss has been cutting me some slack because of my personal situation. But recently he told me he was bringing in someone from another office to help with outside sales. Needless to say I wasn't too excited about the supposed help. I got even less excited when I heard it was a woman, a young, cute, woman. I immediately assumed she had been hired by the CEO who has a reputation of hiring a series of young women. These young women travel with the CEO and get "hands on training".
Late one Friday afternoon Michele called me and told me she was the person hired to help me. Since she lived in another state about 5 hours away she wanted to get together to pick my brains. She seemed extremely pleasant on the phone and my job insecurities began to melt away. She said she wanted to get together the next week. I told her the only day I was available was Friday. Could I recommend a place to stay? Certainly, the Residence Inn is close to the office, very comfortable, serves a free breakfast and free happy hour. When she asked if I would like to get together for happy hour my interest was immediately piqued. Unfortunately, I was coaching my sons little league game that afternoon.
"Well, how about after the game?" She said.
"No, I'll be hot and sweaty and in uniform." I said.
"Oh, I love a man in uniform." She said.
Well that got my attention in a big way. I promised I would rush home from the game, shower and make it to the hotel by 6:00pm.
At 6:00, when I arrived at the hotel I called her room.
"Do you want to come up? Or should we meet in the lobby." She said.
"I think its best we meet in the lobby." I replied, wondering if I had won the lottery.
After several minutes a huge woman came out of the elevator and headed my way. Oh shit! Just when I thought things were going my way. Fortunately, the lady waddled by and when I looked towards the elevator again a very attractive, extremely tanned lady came out and headed my way wearing a pleasant smile on her face and a short skirt.
We went up to the bar, got our complimentary drinks, and sat down at a table. We exchanged the basic data people do when they first meet. I told her about my divorce, she told me her husband was a photojournalist covering the festivities in Bosnia or Kosova or someplace. I briefly pondered the morality of lusting after another man's wife. A particularly raw subject with me since another man had recently absconded with my wife. I finally concluded that each of us is in charge of our own selves only. She was going to do what she exactly what she wanted and that was her responsibility.
After several drinks, Michele confided that she had heard some office scuttlebutt that I was less than enthusiastic about getting help from another office. In fact she had heard I was going to be outright hostile to the idea of working with her. I told her I had felt that way at first. But, I had finally come to the conclusion that I could use help, and if she confined herself solely to outside sales, she was not a threat to my job. I could see the tension lift from her.
Before her conversation had seemed somewhat forced, now she was relaxed. We talked about everything from skin-diving to what she should wear to the office in the morning. When last call was sounded at 7:00 I knew even if nothing else happened, I could be this woman's friend. I also had that familiar (from my long ago single days) tension rising in the pit of my stomach. The tension that tells you, you don't know where this is going to end up, but it is sure is fun.
Michele suggested we go get something to eat. It's my town so I should pick the place.
Sly old me. I picked a place right near my house. In fact we drove by my house on the way. We also cruised by my wife's new house on the way to the restaurant just to see if she and her boyfriend were home. Michele got a big kick out of this.
"Lets knock on the door and go in." She said. "I can put my arms all over you and pretend I'm your girlfriend."
That sounded great to me. Let the bitch know I'm not rotting at home without her. Fortunately, they weren't home. I was in a crazy enough mood to do it.
We had a delightful meal, although neither one of us was very hungry after all the beer. While in the restaurant I saw two people I knew. While Michele was in the bathroom, one of my wife's friends came up to me and told me how sorry she was to hear my wife and I had split up.
