Discovering Life

By Patrick Harding

Steve Palmer had lived the archetypal middle-class life. After graduating from UC Berkeley with an MBA, he embarked upon a promising career in finance, married a successful woman, and acquired the rewards of a prosperous lifestyle. They lived in their dream house in the Berkeley hills, drove a set of his and hers Mercedes and joined the prestigious Claremont country club.

Having no children, they indulged themselves with vintage wine and modern art collections.
When their marriage fell apart Steve decided to re-examine his life and consider what was truly important to him. Now in his early forties, he was in a different space; emotionally and philosophically he knew things had changed. He wanted to learn more about life and to experience the realities that existed outside of his familiar and cloistered world. And he wanted to explore sexual avenues he had never walked before. As he saw it, the clock was running out and if he didn’t act now it would soon be too late.

In a digital age where the next sexual encounter was only a few clicks away, Steve embarked upon a personal voyage to meet new people and to learn more about himself. But he was not prepared for the people he would meet or what these liaisons would involve. He did not understand the stakes and what he could ultimately lose. In his quest for self-discovery Steve entered a realm of lust, debauchery and sexual addiction. As he fell further into a world entwined with other peoples’ emotional needs and sexual desires he would be forced once again to question the meaning of his life. Eventually he would have to make decisions and take risks that he could not have imagined a year earlier.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patrick Harding
• Release date: Mar 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311059482

Patrick Harding

To contact the author please send an email to:[e-mail]

Book preview

So I guess that’s it then? he said turning from the kitchen sink to look at his wife.

I guess so she replied, staring at her reflection in the window as she stroked the stem of the wine glass with the tips of her fingers. Not even a glass of Puligny-Montrachet was going to make this evening any better.

After ten years of marriage, Steve and Linda Palmer’s relationship had hit a wall. They appeared to have everything going for them; a beautiful house in the Berkeley hills overlooking the San Francisco bay, a set of his and hers Mercedes, wine and modern art collections, and a comfortable investment portfolio. Both were successful professionals, educated, healthy and attractive. They had never wanted children and this had further afforded them the opportunity to indulge their respective materialistic goals.

Steve looked around the house and wondered how they had managed to accumulate so much stuff over the years. Perhaps it had begun with a small indulgent item purchased on one of their trips to France or Spain. But as the years went by, the size of their covetous appetites had only increased. They had engaged local artisans to design and build furniture, including a walk-in wine cellar with an actual bar. They had purchased small but original works of art by Miro, Dali, and Matisse, and they had accumulated a high-end wine collection of close to two thousand bottles. Linda had collected wine before she met Steve and on the advice of her broker had been purchasing wine futures for close to fifteen years; these included several of the major Bordeaux and Burgundy producers. To augment their prized French wines, they would make frequent trips to Napa and Sonoma to pick up the hot new releases that rarely made it to the wine stores.

Linda was sitting at the bistro table; her legs were crossed and while her body posture was composed it had an aura of defiance. She was her usual stylishly dressed self in a long-sleeved yellow silk blouse and a pair of dark blue Dior pants; her black Italian leather shoes would tell anyone they were expensive. Linda worked out regularly and was always careful with her diet so she still looked great in just about anything she wore. Steve was his usual self in a polo shirt worn outside of his faded jeans. The soles of his feet were soiled from pacing up and down the deck during a call he had taken earlier with one of his colleagues in Hong Kong.

I really want to avoid getting lawyers involved in this Steve said There is very little to argue about really. We’ll split everything equally, whoever wants the house can buy the other person out or we can sell it. I just want to move on as quickly as possible.

The break up was Steve’s idea and they had been discussing its various aspects for several months. Linda had been willing to put up with many of Steve’s shortcomings, including a couple of sexual indiscretions she had discovered, in order to maintain the marriage; but it was clear from their numerous discussions that Steve was determined to end it. She was not sure if this was simply a classic mid-life crisis he was going through or something more profound. On more than a couple of occasions, Linda had wondered if Steve had some kind of a chemical imbalance or if he was possibly bi-polar. When she had suggested counseling, Steve had flatly refused to consider it. He kept coming back to how he believed they were essentially incompatible in certain areas and how they had grown apart over the years. The bottom line for Steve was that they were done and they needed to go their separate ways – or at least he knew he did.

What about the cats? Linda asked

Steve looked through her with a distant stare before slowly closing his eyes. Their lives were falling apart and she was asking about the welfare of a couple of pampered felines who probably didn’t care where they ended up as long as there was food available and somewhere warm to sleep. He actually liked the cats and to some extent they had filled a gap that children would normally have occupied. They were Siamese, sisters from the same litter, and they appeared to adore each other. ‘They may be one of the few things we own that would not be split down the middle’ he thought.

I really don’t have time to look after pets. Steve shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. This was Steve’s classic ‘why are you bothering me with this shit’ look and Linda decided not to push the matter any further. Plus, she figured the cats would be both a distraction and company for her in the short term.

Linda and Steve met during the time they had worked together in San Francisco around twelve years ago. As Linda was dating someone their relationship started out as purely professional and platonic. Over time they began to travel together on work assignments and they would occasionally set up working lunches, purposely not inviting anyone else. They saw much of life through the same set of filters and they tried to support each other as much as possible on work-related issues.

Linda liked and trusted Steve enough that she set him up on a date with one of her wilder girlfriends from college and she was more than a little surprised when they appeared to hit it off. Steve had always been complaining to Linda about how difficult it was to meet women in the Bay Area. As Linda was living with someone and had not developed any romantic feelings towards him she took on the role of the proverbial Yenta. ‘Why not help out two friends who are looking for the same thing’ she thought. Steve went along for the ride without telling Linda he had actually started to develop romantic feelings for her.

While Linda was conservative, refined, and extremely health-conscious, her friend Maria smoked, drank copious amounts of vodka, was outspoken, and could not remember the last time she had been inside a gym. Steve had been thrilled to find out Maria had a sex drive that could go from zero to sixty in under ten seconds. They had a lot of fun and shared long, personal conversations but the relationship did not develop and was over in less than a year. This left Steve to wonder why he felt drawn to women like Linda when it came to relationships but it was women like Maria who made him feel alive. He had read a line once that seemed to sum this up for him; ‘Where such men love they have no desire and where they have desire, they cannot love.’ It appeared to Steve like some version of the Madonna-Whore complex and Steve often wondered if he would ever grow out of it.

Steve was born in 1968 and had been raised in a conventional middle-class family in Walnut Creek, California. The youngest of two children he had always done well at school academically as well as excelling at high school baseball as a promising third baseman. He studied finance at St. Mary’s College and then attended UC Berkeley where he obtained his MBA. His mother had spent her adult life at home looking after the children while his father had worked his way up through the ranks at GE, eventually becoming the senior vice-president of human resources for their West Coast operations. His father was constantly traveling and Steve assumed he was under a lot of pressure to meet a series of never-ending deadlines and objectives. As he grew older, Steve suspected his father was having affairs while he was on the road; at home, his father drank heavily and this habit often led to huge arguments with his mother. Cecilia Palmer came from a large Irish family and she was quite capable of standing her ground in an argument. But as the years went by his mother appeared more willing to turn a blind eye to anything which might upset their comfortable, way of life. In the end, Steve believed his mother had become so accustomed to the affluent, country club lifestyle that she was prepared to pay the associated personal costs.

Linda Nauke was born in 1969; she grew up in a middle-class neighborhood in Menlo Park, California. Her family had provided her with a happy and stable lifestyle but she had always been slightly embarrassed that her father was a Dutch immigrant who ran a small business as a plumbing contractor. While his business did well, and he might employ up to twenty people during busy periods, she would avoid conversations about his work with her friends at high school. From her teenage years, Linda had desperately wanted to move out of the house as soon as possible so that she could make her own way in life. College presented the perfect opportunity and when she was accepted at Stanford with a well-earned scholarship, she could not have been happier. After graduating in the top 10% of her class, Linda attended Boalt Hall where she gained a JD. Her plan was to join a major public corporation and focus on international tax planning. Linda was looking forward to a high-powered and upwardly mobile career and, more importantly, to moving her social status upwards at an equally rapid pace.

Hi, my name is Steve we were in a meeting together last week. You know the one on dividend repatriations. I thought your comments and analysis were very good and fairly easy to understand for a non-technical person.

Linda looked up slowly from the handlebars of the stationary bike, her gaze moving up his sweat-covered t-shirt and finally focusing on his eyes. It was lunchtime and they were both in the company gym.

Oh Hi, sorry I didn’t catch your name.

Steve, Steve Palmer. You are Linda Nauke, I remember your name from the list of speakers. As I said, that was a very interesting review, I learned a lot, really.

He stood back to give her a little more room before wiping the excess sweat off his face with the back of his hand. For some reason, Linda Nauke did not seem to perspire. It was obvious she was working out at a hard pace but she just seemed to glow. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was wearing a turquoise Spandex top with black cropped leggings. This exposed her stomach, which he noticed was flat, tight, and tanned.

Oh right, yes I kind of remember you. You were at the back somewhere on the right, I think She finally sat upright on the bike while continuing to pedal just as hard.

Steve had been sitting only two rows back and directly in front of her so obviously he had failed to make an impression. He saw she was wearing an engagement ring and in order to keep his ego afloat, he rationalized that this was probably the reason why she may not have noticed him. He was six feet tall with an athletic build; his dark unruly hair provided a noticeable contrast to his light blue eyes. He had taken up long-distance running and mountain biking several years ago and he was in great physical shape. Steve Palmer was used to getting at least a minor reaction from women when he entered a room but for whatever reason, he felt that Linda had stared right through him for the entire meeting.

I work in the finance dept here, mostly work on international compliance and governmental issues. I report to the director, Sean Beckman, do you know him?

Can’t say I really know him, I’ve seen his name on a few reports and memos but we don’t have a lot of direct contact with that group. Linda was now standing up on the bike and pumping the pedals as hard as she could.

Well, that may be changing over the next few months. As part of this cross-functional training program senior management wants to implement, I’m being seconded to the tax group for around six months. You’ll probably get sick of the sight of me. Steve had hoped this self-deprecation would have brought a smile to her face but she just kept on pedaling and gazing at the gym floor. She finally broke what was becoming an awkward silence for him.

Really? Nobody told me about that; so does this mean we’ll have to teach you about tax planning? Her eyelids closed to disguise her rolling eyes.

No, well maybe a little, I’m not sure of the details right now but perhaps we’ll get the chance to work together. Maybe even travel together on a couple of those large international projects.

Linda breathed in heavily through her nose and he noticed her eyes open in what he thought looked like a sign of weary resignation. She stopped pedaling, took the small white towel from her shoulders, and gently patted her face. ‘She’s not wearing any make-up’, he thought. ‘Okay, maybe some mascara or eyeliner but she definitely seemed quite natural for the most part.’

So would you like to grab some lunch one day or do you spend all your lunchtimes in the gym? I mean, you look like you might Steve smiled and hoped she would respond to his playful compliment but once again she looked at him without registering an obvious expression.

Sure, give me a call and let’s set something up. But something light, maybe a salad or sushi?

Linda eased herself off the bike and bent down to pick up her locker key. He tried as hard as he could not to look at her ass but it was pointless. His mind shot off at a tangent. ‘Why do women dress like that and do they wear anything under those spandex shorts.’ He quickly focused on regaining his composure and forcing his eyes back to her face.

I’ll call you this afternoon to set something up; maybe for later this week or early next? Steve stepped back to give her enough room to move in front of the bike.

Considering it’s Friday today so I guess it will have to be next week, she said eying him with one of those smirks women use when they know a man is talking about one thing but they know his mind is somewhere more primal.

Right, right. Okay then, so next week, I’ll call you and we’ll fix something up. So have a great day and a good weekend and we’ll chat more next week then.

‘Well, at least she finally smiled.’ He was replaying their conversation as he walked back to the locker room. But he wasn’t really sure if it was a smile or if she was just playing with him. ‘Did she see me look at her breasts momentarily while she was pedaling’, he wondered. ‘Surely not, it was just for a second so how could she have noticed? And how do I not know what day of the fucking week it is? Jesus, she must think I’m a moron.’

As Steve stood under the shower he wondered whether it would be better to be thought of as a moron or as some sort of a perverted voyeur. He was weighing up a couple of pros and cons when he looked at his watch and saw he only had fifteen minutes to get to a meeting at the other side of the campus. He would have to come back to this question at another time.

And that was how they met. Lunch was easy enough and they talked freely about various subjects; Linda told him she was not wearing a real engagement ring; it was, she explained, to keep men away as she was currently dating someone. Steve thought that was a little extreme but maybe she did get hit on by guys all the time. For a fleeting moment, it crossed his mind that maybe she did not like men exclusively but then he caught another glimpse of her perfect breasts and his mind was off in a different direction. During their early conversations, they had discovered various shared interests, viewpoints, and philosophies – especially on the big issues in life. Neither of them wanted children, their careers were very important, and amazingly they had both hoped to live in the Oakland or Berkeley hills one day.

As he walked over to the kitchen window Steve wondered once more what had really gone wrong with their marriage. He had asked himself this question so many times; during his long runs along Grizzly Peak and bike rides around Tilden Park he had searched his soul for an answer but he couldn’t come up with anything specific that would explain his current state of mind. There was no single incident, no lifestyle or personality change, just a constant stream of events building up over time until suddenly he sensed a huge weight pressing down on him. But it wasn’t something tangible, something that he could fix; nor, from his perspective, could he get anyone else to help him fix it. It was the single biggest disappointment of his life so far. He felt helpless and without the skills or knowledge to repair an important part of his life that had somehow failed. And now, the only road available to him appeared to be the uncertain one he would have to take on his own.

Of course, there were things about Linda that had pissed him off over the years. Her domineering personality, combined with a need to control just about everything, could be hard to take at times. They had lost friendships with other couples because of her behaviors but he had stood by her throughout the various embarrassing fall-outs. A couple of his male friends appeared to be almost scared of Linda and Steve realized that people would invite him to events when they knew Linda was traveling.

From Steve’s viewpoint, one of the most exasperating aspects of Linda’s behavior was her use of sex as a weapon. He liked having sex with her but it was almost always on her terms – when she felt like it and how she wanted it. Over the years this had dwindled to being once a week, always on the weekend, and only with him on top. She had told him on more than one occasion she considered oral sex to be disgusting given the number of germs people carried in their mouths.

Steve had not exactly been the innocent bystander over the past few years and he had taken solace in both alcohol consumption and affairs with other women. One of the women had asked him to leave Linda but he had always found a reason to hang in there, secretly hoping she would mellow out a little more as the years passed. In the end, Steve had come to realize this was a strategy with a finite timeline; especially as he approached his forty-third birthday.

So until we get all the living arrangements sorted out we need to have some rules about what we can and cannot do around here Linda stood up, folded her arms, she was now staring directly at Steve.

‘Oh God’, he thought to himself, ‘here we go again, more of her rules and regulations that I will need to abide by.’

So what does that mean exactly? Steve leaned casually against the wall to show her he was not in the mood for a fight this evening.

Well, for one thing, if you are going to start dating new people you cannot bring them back to the house until I move out, assuming you want to keep the house. I will do the same, of course.

Steve returned her stare as he wondered how long they would need to endure this painful existence. Linda had spent the last three years and a small fortune on decorations and furnishings and he fully expected she would try to strip the place bare when she left.

‘Nice of her to abide by her own rules’ he thought, the sarcasm being delivered through his changing body language. Steve could feel the frustration building and he wondered about how she might act if she was out on a date. ‘Who would want to fuck her anyway? She’d probably ask them to produce a medical certificate along with a contract involving liquidated damages should she not be completely satisfied with the entire experience.’

Sure, I can do that and I just wanted to let you know that I will be talking to a mortgage broker this week to understand what’s involved in getting the house appraised and re-financed. I have decided to keep the house if I can swing it financially. I’m hoping this can all be done within 60 days so you should probably start looking for somewhere else to live. You cannot stay here indefinitely and you should plan on leaving here in a couple of months from now.

Linda glowered at him as she shook her head contemptuously. Steve knew how pissed off she became whenever she could not control a situation. But he did not want to fight her anymore; he just wanted to move on with his life and hopefully meet someone else. This was one of the areas that upset Linda the most. From her standpoint she had given the best years of her life to this relationship and now, at forty-two, she would have to start all over again. It had been so easy to meet men when she was in her twenties, most of the time it was too easy. She wondered what meeting someone new would be like now. ‘Had the dating rituals changed over the years, surely the objectives had to be different once you reached forty?’

For the past month or two, Steve had been conducting online research around dating in the 21st century and had discovered several places where he could potentially meet women. He had spent many hours looking at the various websites to understand how they worked and, specifically, which ones might work best for him. One of the sites he had considered was e-Harmony but he almost fell asleep trying to complete the online profile. 'Jesus Christ, who needs to know this level of detail? Do things like colors, foods, and birth dates really mean anything? If someone does not like Indian food does that make them a bad person? Do I need to consider giving up Indian food in order to be eHarmonized? And what the fuck do they do with all this data; I can borrow a million dollars without having to disclose so much information.’

The website that caught Steve’s eye was Match.com. He liked the simple layout and search features and he was surprised by the number of women, many of whom appeared to be successful and accomplished, who were prepared to bare their souls, along with, hopefully, a recent picture. He spent hours creating searches and filtering through the results; to Steve, this felt like he was a kid in a candy store. ‘Was it really going to be this easy to meet women?’

One evening, while he was hunched over his laptop and gazing at Jill from Moraga, who was divorced, had no children, liked running, gardening, and French wines, he had a minor epiphany. He suddenly realized that his life so far had consisted almost entirely of self-discipline, hard work, and suburban conventionality. Over the years his friends would tell him about some of their more adventurous exploits, including trips to brothels, sex clubs, and threesomes with a friend’s wife. He looked up, gazed momentarily at his reflection in the window, and realized he had never really left the proverbial straight and narrow pathway, especially when it came to sex. He was in his forties and yet he had never been with a prostitute, never had sex with more than one person at a time, and had not played out any of the various sexual fantasies he had imagined over the years.

Steve went to the kitchen and poured himself a large glass of Merryvale Profile. Back in front of his laptop, he considered that he probably had about seven to ten years remaining before his window of sexual exploration and discovery would begin to close. ‘Fuck me, when I read what athletes, actors, and politicians get up to it feels as if I have never left the house.’ That time was running out for Steve Palmer became very evident that evening. What was not so obvious was what he was going to do about it. In less than three months he would be single again, only this time he would be a lot wiser, in no rush to make any commitments, and have the economic means to enjoy himself – including a wonderful house overlooking the San Francisco bay.

He would need a plan and he would need to do more research. ‘If finding Match.com had been this easy, what possibilities could be out there’, he wondered. As he explored some of the less well-traveled sections of the Internet he came across various other dating sites; some were vanilla while others were distinctly adult-oriented. Then one site caught his attention, especially as it was not themed as a personals website. It was called Craigslist and within its sections, he discovered an area called Casual Encounters. And as he viewed the contents of the various ads he realized the world, and more importantly, his world, might soon become a much more interesting place.

Chapter 2 The First Date

The next two months were simply miserable. Linda seemed to go out of her way to ensure Steve would regret this decision for the rest of his life. One tactic she had used was to contact all of their friends, including some of his male friends, and pour out her sorrows to them. Her goal, of course, was to turn these people against him and to generally trash his name. Another approach was to invite people to the house for drinks or dinner; as there was only one kitchen it was virtually impossible not to encounter someone they had been friends with over the years. This was all embarrassing and painful but Steve knew he had to keep going; he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel and he still believed he was doing the right thing for him.

One way he had distracted himself was by working on re-mortgaging the house into his name. After the necessary funding was in place Linda had finally signed the quitclaim deed. She would soon be in possession of a large sum of cash and he would be holding a mortgage that was more than double the amount of their initial mortgage. ‘Rising California house prices had certainly made divorce more problematic for anyone who wanted to hang onto the family home’, he reflected. As part of the separation rituals, Linda insisted that they go through each room and decide who would take what. Linda had put herself in charge of making a list of what she would take and what she would be okay with leaving.

Look, just take whatever you want; I can do without a lot of this stuff and there’s always the IKEA in Emeryville if I really get stuck Steve was following her around looking at all the furniture, electronic equipment, ornaments, and various designer artifacts within each room. ‘How and when did we ever manage to acquire so much stuff?’

You know damn well I cannot take a lot of the items I actually want. I am moving into a two-bedroom cottage for the next year or so and there is no room there for the larger items. Linda continued to write down her detailed list.

So just put whatever you don’t need into storage, I’m sure it will be okay for a year or so. Steve was determined to move this along as quickly as possible. There could be no last-minute hurdles to prevent her from moving out. He assumed that if she could, Linda would slow down her departure just to be bloody-minded and annoying.

Look, we need this list for the settlement agreement. It has to be complete and final. Once that is signed we cannot start asking each other for this and that item. She waved the list in his face as another act of defiance and confrontation. Her eyes fixed him with a cold and angry stare.

Steve raised his eyebrows and followed her into the next room. What he wanted more than anything was for her to be gone. To come home, close the door, turn up the music as loud as he wished, eat the food he wanted to eat, and, most importantly, hang out with anyone he wanted to. ‘We are on the last stretch now,’ he kept reminding himself. ‘This will soon be over soon, you just need to hang in there for a few more weeks.’

During this time Steve had decided to distract himself by actually meeting one of the women he had been chatting with online. He needed to think of a suitable place to meet her; nothing too flashy and preferably somewhere with enough distractions in case they found themselves staring at the floor. One of his favorite haunts over the years had been a funky music bar on Shattuck Avenue in Berkeley called Jupiter. The back of the bar was open and on most nights local musicians would play for a few hours under the canopy of two giant redwood trees. The music was mostly jazz or some kind of improvised fusion. The gas heat lamps warmed the cool evening air and the on-premises brewing and pub food worked well with the setting and atmosphere. The tables were comfortably spaced and so it was easy to speak in relative privacy; Steve figured that the band or the people watching would fill any awkward gaps in their conversation.

This was his first date and so he had no expectations about where it might lead. On top of which, he did not technically live alone and this might prove to be a little difficult to explain if matters developed faster than he had anticipated. Steve decided to take a low-key and relaxed approach to the meeting. He was somewhat apprehensive and uncertain around the protocols of dating in his forties and in order to settle his mind he tried to imagine this was something more akin to meeting a work colleague from another office for the first time. ‘Surely we can find something to chat about for an hour or so?’ he told himself as convincingly as possible. After changing his clothes three times he finally opted for his standard casual attire of jeans, a white polo shirt, and boat shoes with no socks. ‘She might as well see how I usually assemble myself’, he reasoned.

Steve had been conversing with Denise for almost two weeks via Match.com. She was thirty-eight, originally from Texas, and recently divorced after nine years of marriage. She had short, auburn hair, green eyes, and pale, freckled skin; her smile was engaging and it seemed to light up her entire face. Steve had told her the place was fairly basic in terms of comfort and that they would be sitting outside; still, she had taken the time put on some make-up to accent her eyes and to squeeze her curvaceous breasts into an expensive-looking red wool sweater – which had caused several heads to turn when she walked into the bar. She was also wearing fairly tight jeans and it was obvious she was into taking care of her body. Denise looked natural and healthy; nothing overdone or pretentious. ‘Just a wholesome Texas girl’, he told himself, ‘and if we do decide to take this a little further cowgirl, you can count me in as a very willing participant.’

They found it easy to talk as they exchanged stories about work, travel, wines, and the usual safe subjects one tends to gravitate to when meeting someone for the first time.

So, how’s the beer? They actually make it all here; so, of course, the choice is a bit limited but it’s great to taste freshly brewed beer.

"I’m not really a beer connoisseur but it’s good, I like it. Which one am I drinking again? Denise turned to look at the large chalkboard on the front wall where the beers were listed.

The IPA – it stands for India Pale Ale. I think it’s their best brew but really, they’re all good. Here, try mine, this is a Lambic-style beer, it’s originally from Belgium.

Denise took a small sip before excusing herself for a quick trip to the bathroom. This afforded Steve the opportunity, along with several other male patrons, to watch her cute butt disappear across the room. After she had sat down and placed her bag under the table, Denise casually looking up and asked him an unexpected question: So Steve, how many people have you met online? She clasped her hands in front of her body and leaned across the table towards him; he could not help noticing the sparkle in her eyes and the mischievous grin on her face.

Steve smiled, took a sip of the beer, and slowly put the glass down. Hmmm, well actually, you are the first person.

He gave her one of those pained, grimacing smiles, a cross between an apology and embarrassment, both of which were unnecessary but which did at least allow him the necessary time to gather his thoughts.

The truth is, I’m still mopping up a few loose ends around my divorce. I mean, it’s all over, signed and sealed as they say, but I am, or we are, I should say, finalizing the living arrangements, so to speak

Really, so I’m your first? How sweet is that, well I do feel quite honored. Denise laughed and tossed her head back before leaning forward to take another small sip from the pint glass. And don’t worry about the divorce thing, she continued, I went through it too; I mean, you spend so long together so of course there is going to be stuff to tidy up. But eventually, it will all be over and you can get on with your new life.

Steve liked her direct and matter-of-fact manner and thought that a Texas accent on a woman was very sexy. Denise appeared to wear her thoughts and feelings openly and she seemed upbeat and happy. As they sat and watched the band play Steve was fairly sure Denise would have no interest in keeping a meticulous wine inventory, as Linda had done. That was assuming she was even pretentious enough to own a wine collection. ‘No, she would probably be more interested in enjoying it’, he thought. The band finished the first part of their set and announced they were taking a break.

Thanks, it is all a bit new right now. Kind of scary actually, I mean, I haven’t dated anyone for more than ten years. I guess I’ll have to re-learn all that stuff again, although it has to be different when you are in your forties. Plus, I am not really sure what I’m looking for. This is just so different from when I was a twenty-something. So what about you, how long have you been doing this dating thing and how many people have you met on Match.com?

Well let me see, I signed up around six months ago and I have met around a half dozen or so people, I guess. Mostly nice guys but it’s funny, even though we might spend a long time chatting on the phone or sending each other numerous emails, there is nothing like that first meeting to know if you are truly interested in going further. It’s almost primal, really; although perhaps lust is a better word, I'm not sure. But what I can say is that within the first three to five minutes you generally know if there will be a second date or not.

Steve looked at her with a somewhat astonished stare, his eyes wide open and his head slightly cocked to one side.

Really, so that’s it, it still all comes down to lust and whether you want to bonk someone or not? That seems a little surprising at our age but perhaps I’ve just not given it much thought.

Denise sat back in her seat and looked up at the ceiling. Well, I mean, everyone is a little different but think about it: Women in their late thirties, forties or even older are not looking for the same thing as, say, a twenty-something. There are no expectations of babies or even weddings, for the most part. I think you will find that many of the women you’ll be meeting on Match.com are looking for companionship; someone to have dinner with, maybe watch a movie or go wine tasting together in Napa, and, yes, someone to have good and uncomplicated sex with. Most of the women have established lives with houses, cars, careers, and sometimes even kids. What they’re seeking is male companionship. He was listening intensely and trying not to make it so obvious that his eyes were occasionally glancing at her breasts.

Steve knew it was his turn to add something to the conversation. Well, perhaps these women may not have been happy with the type of sex they had in their marriage, I know I wasn’t. Let’s face it, as the years go by it does become pretty routine; and then there are those women who use sex as a weapon or purposely withhold sex within their marriages. Hopefully, all these women will move on after the divorce and become more open and adventurous with their sexual experiences. And if they are lucky they will find someone who is a good person, somewhat grounded and, fingers crossed, good between the sheets.

Denise smiled and gave him a playful wink before she finished her drink.

Steve returned her smile and continued. Wow, so much to learn, so much to take in. I’m not quite sure where to start. So what was your worst experience? You don’t have to tell me any gory, explicit details unless, of course, you want to he let out a mock laugh and sat back in his chair. But was there one date you wished had not happened or that you could have done without?

Denise exhaled a quick nasal laugh and rolled her eyes.

Yes, actually, but I will need another drink before I tell you this one. Can you get our waitress over here and order another round; plus, I need to visit the girl’s room again, this beer is going straight through me tonight, maybe it’s the cool weather or something.

When she returned the waitress was just leaving and their glasses had been recharged. ‘Good to see she has a healthy thirst’ he thought to himself.

So Denise, I am all ears, you have my full attention, do tell me about one of your most memorable online dating experiences

Well, where should I begin She sat back and shifted her spine between the slats of the wooden bench as she looked up at the dark evening sky. The stars were beginning to shine brightly and the breeze from the bay was cooling the air down quickly.

So this is not sexual or anything like that, I just want to set the stage before we start so that you’re not all disappointed with the ending. So okay, there was this one guy who contacted me, the famous Dave I now call him. He seemed like a nice guy, divorced, no children, mid-forties, professional career, an attorney, I think; he seemed to have his shit together and all that. We did the usual email chat, spoke on the phone, and agreed to meet up. The one thing I noticed about him immediately was that he was quite handsome; I mean, certainly well above average looks. He only posted one picture of himself but it was a good picture. So as superficial as that sounds it was certainly a contributing factor in my decision to meet him for drinks.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a look that mildly asked for forgiveness for being so shallow.

Okay, so go on, it all sounds good so far

Right, so we agree to meet at Olivetto’s, you know the Italian place over by Rockridge BART station.

She was beginning to smile more than a little now and he assumed the memories were coming back.

Yeah, I know the place, wonderful food, I really like their pizzas. They have a great olive selection too.

Denise looked at him a little dismissively, shrugged her shoulders, and continued.

So I got there a little early as I didn’t know if I could find parking, it was maybe around 6.30 pm. I went to the bar and ordered a cocktail and sat there waiting. And I should mention, well at least for me, the thing with this adult dating, or whatever you want to call it, is that it does take you back a bit, to when you were younger, I mean. I still get butterflies in my stomach before every meeting; even meeting you tonight, it happened. It’s kind of like, I wonder if we will be attracted to each other or if there will be any awkward moments; I mean, there’s a lot of anticipation and build-up. You know how it is, you check your clothes, your hair, you brush your teeth one more time; the thing is, you want to look good on a first date, right?

Steve nodded in agreement, gave her a supportive smile, and took a long sip of beer.

So, I hear this voice behind me say ‘Hi, Denise, hey sorry I’m a little late, good to finally meet you’ and I swivel around in my chair and gaze at what appears to be a complete stranger standing in front of me. Dave? I ask. He says ‘Yeah, Dave, nice to finally meet you in person Denise.’

Denise leaned forward and sipped her drink. She shook her head and closed her eyes as she put the glass down slowly.

"So, I say ‘Dave, it’s nice to meet you too but I