"I broke up with her a while back. I got tired of how controlling she was, so I let her go." "Ah, well," she says. "She wasn't any good for you anyway...." I chuckle as the server brings our drinks. We pick up our drinks, and hold them up to each other. "To breakups," she says. I repeat and touch my shot glass to hers and then we kick the drinks back. "Ack! That shit is strong!" She smiles at me. "Yeah, but thats how I like it," she slurs. I can tell that she's pretty out of it, especially as she. After we arrived at his place I was pleasantly surprised to find that the pottery and porcelain that he owned was actually quite stunning and that there were no kitsch figurines. He did briefly give me a rundown on the when’s and why’s of his collection, but I have to sadly admit that most of it went right over my head.“So… are you ready for your cocktail? He eventually asked.After I nodded, Kevin got a serious look on his face. “Listen… let me caution you that you need to have an open mind. Opening the door more music greeted him – a CD playing in the living room, one of her favorites – so he leaned his head in there while shrugging off his coat. Curled up on the couch, dozing lightly, a book in her loose grip open on her lap – not exactly what he’d expected since she tended to be a night owl. Still, it was a charming sight with her hair spilling down onto her shoulders, and so much better than the years of coming home to an empty dark house. He walked to the kitchen, kicked off. On a commuter flight the loo has more in common with the inside of an MRI scanner than it does any kind of a rest room. Lucile and I met in an airport gate awaiting a 2-1/2 hour night flight to Minneapolis. We exchanged first names only. Lucile appeared to be in her mid fifties, a large framed but trim woman with chestnut colored hair. Her tanned bosom was a contrasting surface for a single strand of pearls. “Hefty” is the word that first struck me for her full, ripe breasts barely contained.
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