After several minutes of talking about the weather and my job, she asked me how my social life was going. I told her it was pretty much non-existent. ...he said hers was too. Her husband had passed away several years ago and, although she occasionally went out, it always turned out to be disappointing. Finishing my lemonade, I started to get up to leave when she suddenly blurted out, "James, I really like sex". Some what startled by her remark, I sat back down and the only thing I could think of. As I enter, I see you onstage, wailing your heart out, a bunch of kids playing hard and loud around you. All I can hear is your voice. The instruments are dead to me. Your song has brought me to you, and now you will pay.You feel me watching you long before you see me. You look around, trying to find the source of your sudden breathlessness. Your body has reacted to my presence, my calling. Your heart responds to me, our pulses synchronizing, beating in time with the beat of the music that. “All right,” Jeanette began. “First of all, while Charles has a right to commit both of you in most situations, this isn’t going to work unless Kathleen is willing.”“I went to you for advice years ago.”“You’ve grown since.”“So have you. You’re only what? four years older than I am. You’re nearly two decades longer married. I assume that’s what this is about. And, as Mom points out, you’ve managed to have a successful marriage with Bob.”“Drop that prejudice, Kathleen. This is serious.” Although. Normally I appreciate the sleep, but I had just too great a work back load, to comfortably nod off. I left my seat and to the angry looks of those I awoke, headed to the back of the auditorium, past those that were either texting or making sure their mp3 players still worked. I reckoned with the rest of the department asleep and the other company departments aware that we were asleep, I might actually get about two weeks work done in the resultant quiet. Getting back at my desk, I ensured some.