All too often for me, weekends were for killing time, finding various ways to avoid working around the house, getting caught up on paperwork, or even engaging in a remotely productive or challenging hobby. That Saturday was no exception, I was at Josh's Cantina, a bar not far from my place at the outskirts of northwest Tucson. The main draw there for me was that the place was usually sufficiently low-key and quiet to hear myself think and hold a conversation with friends without having to shout myself hoarse against a stereo cranked over the top or a crowd that made you feel like you were in a sardine can. This particular afternoon, I was mostly listening to my friend and avid rock hound/fossil collector Tom repeat his sob story of how he missed his true calling and passion in life, which was geology, instead of being stuck managing a landscaping company. The stories became less coherent as the sun and drinks went down, as was usually the case for Tom.
Tom and his co-worker Matt were to my left, to my right was Frank, a tall, lanky former podiatrist at Fort Huachuca who took an early retirement. He was with his wife Claire, who insisted on accompanying him to bars and chauffeuring him around ever since his DUI from several years ago. Claire usually took a friend of hers along since she had no interest in our conversation, this time it was Kaye, who I had seen a few times before but never interacted with other than being introduced and saying hello.
As the afternoon progressed to early evening, Tom and Matt decided that they had enough of drinking and repeating the same stories, while Claire had decided to play babysitter again with her middle-aged charge, leaving Kaye alone, two empty seats away from me. Making friendly small-talk with a friend twice removed (don't we all have friends in law?), I said "Looks like your company abandoned you, and so did my usual posse."
Kaye glanced at me with a look that was half-playful and half-contemptuous and said, "So, sitting around with these old guys is the idea of an exciting Saturday night out for a young guy like you, right?"
"I didn't say anything about it being exciting."
"The least you could do is be a gentleman and offer to buy me a drink, don't you think?"
"Sure, what's your pleasure? I'm having Wild Turkey, you want a shot?"
"No, I'll stick to my Coors Light."
Kaye always had a cynical, worldly look about her. She was the owner of a small dry cleaning service downtown. From what I gathered, she was separated but still legally married, and when interacting with other women she would often suggest that they stay single so that they don't get stuck in a long, unpleasant marriage like her own.
She was somewhere in her mid or even late forties, a good ten to twelve years or more older than I was. However, the tanned, Mediterranean olive skin on her face was still smooth, with only a few lines under her eyes and on her brow to suggest being worse for the wear, and I could tell that there was still a figure under her green silk shirt and slacks that many women ten or twenty years younger would be quite happy with. Her face was striking rather than beautiful, and accented with long, almost black, slightly curly hair.
Kaye thanked me for the beer and said, "Claire tells me you used to teach at the community college..."
"Yes, in a former life - stats and finance courses, I'm a glorified number cruncher now. If Tom thinks his job lacks excitement and adventure, he ought to try mine."
"You know, Mark, I've seen you here many times before. You're what, thirty, thirty two?"
"Thirty-five."
"One thing I always wondered about was that I never see you hanging around with people your age, just these old guys like Frank and Tom."
"Well, when I talk to fifty somethings they usually have something interesting to say. When I talk to twenty or thirty somethings, they talk about the latest music videos or TV shows."
"Touche..." her facial expression and tone had both fascination and bemusement. "So, you're thirty five, not married, never been married?"
"No, and you, you're divorced...right?"
"Something like that. Maybe you're onto something. No girlfriend in your life?"
"Not lately" was all I said, not wanting to get into the two brief flings I had that ultimately went nowhere that year, nor the debacle of a longer-term relationship that I had the years before with a woman about Kaye's age. The funny thing about it all as that all three of them, like Kaye, were recently separated or divorced, as had almost all of my affairs and dates during my adult life. If it weren't for recent divorcees at the local bar, I often think that my choices would have been either a life in a monastery or patronizing brothels. Kaye seemed like one more of the same, not that I was unhappy or complaining.
