How the hell did I get here?

It’s a bar in Vegas. I’m alone. I don’t even have a travelling companion a few yards away at a slot machine. Nothing.

My skirt is short and my t-shirt pink. I’m drinking a beer with a guy whom I do not know. His buddies just inches away in stripey shirts are jabbing each other and looking at me.

This is not the me I used to be.

The good girl

Many years ago I met the man, who would become my husband, at a friend’s party  — just a few weeks after graduating college and the day I arrived in a new town to look for a job. We got to talking and he asked me out. We dated, we got married, we had kids.

Even more years ago, I met my college boyfriend at a dorm party on the first day of school. We dated for four years. He went into the army and I went my own way.

In ninth grade, I moved to a new school and met the kid who would be my boyfriend right up until we went on to separate colleges.

At the age of 35 when my marriage ended I realized I had a big problem, should I want to get married again: I didn’t know how to date.

Help!

So I hired Annie, who taught me how to do the online thing. I became really comfortable with that and met some guys who later became good friends. Then one OKCupid flirtation led to dates and hikes and giggles and talk of the future. I fell in love. Big time. The all-in, kitchen sink and everything kind of love. A few years went by and ..

He met somebody better.

Devastation set in immediately.

But the problem was, once I’d gotten through the streaming mascara crying jags and jumping for my phone whenever it pinged; after the obligatory monologues with all the friends who would listen to me hash out what went wrong and why — after every inch of that broken hearted process –I started healing. I wanted to get back out there.

My hands would freeze over the OKCupid logo, I’d get wheezy looking at profile pictures on Match.

Remember Annie? I did. Digging up my notes from our long-ago coaching sessions, I found something I had completely forgotten. Did you know you can meet men in person? In real, live places where you haven’t had any time to obsess over his online profile stats and match rates?

All my life I’d galumphed from relationship to another. Now, in my mid-life and with a deep-seated, gut-wrenching desire to really find Something Great, I was going to have to get my groove back.

In real time. In real situations.

Like this Irish pub in a Las Vegas mall.

Hey fellas …

So, here I am, actually liking this guy next to me. I’ve realized I want to move it to the next level. Like a walk through the casino and play slot machines with him.

I ask him to take a walk with me. He says yes.

But here’s where the new Addie comes into play: before leaving the bar, I walk over to his buddies. I spread my arms and grab a shoulder of each.

“Gentlemen, I’d like to borrow your friend for an hour, if that’s okay.”

They seem agreeable to this proposal.

I squeeze each shoulder. “After all, a working girl has to do what she has to do.”