The Unbreakables

by Julie Robinson

Holding my tongue and smiling into the phone, I have my doubts.  Shannon’s excitement grows as she shares yet another dripping wet detail about a friend whose marriage is breaking apart piece by piece.

“He’s been hiring call girls when he travels.  This has been going on for four years!  And to think how indignant he acted when she admitted to her extramarital affairs.”

“What a little shit,” I agree. “It figures, though.”  A towering 5’ 4” and pudgy, Grant doesn’t really strike me as the kind of guy who can get random pussy without paying for it.  This is dramatically contrasted with his soon-to-be-ex-wife who has transformed herself into a stunner.    I’m not really sure which came first—fucking the stay at home dad or her newfound beauty—but this all happened over the last year as Averill’s gorgeousness and her husband’s putziness have become more and more mismatched.

Can You Live This Fantasy Life?

by Julie Robinson

They may not be the words every girl wishes to hear in her lifetime, but “I want you to be my bad girl” rings like bells in my ears the morning Devin texts that delightful little proposal to me.  Being exclusively bad with a man has been my secret little fantasy.  If I was going to give it all to my man why would I want to behave?

Dating experts err conservatively when it comes to women showing their wild side to a new love interest.  Kissing is fine, but anything involving removing undergarments or beyond is simply out of the question.  At this point in the game, Devin and I have made out for three solid hours in a local tavern’s leather booth on our second date.  So, while technically I am following the advice of the Wise Ones, I am also opening myself up for opening myself up.

“What is ur fantasy?” Devin sends this innocuous text the morning after our kissfest as I stroll along the 16^th Street Mall looking for a place where I can spread out and grade papers (this is back when I had a jobby job) while also grabbing a bite to eat.  I know he is at work, so instead of thinking about how my fantasy might be taken by a man I barely know, I think about how fun it is going to be to get him groaning in his cubicle.

Talk Talk

by Julie Robinson

Does Sondra seem to have bad karma because even at thirty-eight she engages in over-the-top-flirty conversations with men so they will buy her drinks? Will Leo start getting bad karma because he slept with a woman he doesn’t want to date?  What’s Rachel’s karma looking like these days?  And, will my karma shift directions suddenly because I’m a psycho-bitch when I get angry? 
 
*   *   *

“I don't know how you could have possibly read my message like you did. You completely misunderstood what I was saying. Completely. Wow.  How could anything I wrote even elude to that?”

No, that wasn’t a text from the illustrious Congressman from New York.  It came from my most recent break-up.  Sondra and I have been going at it for weeks; she just doesn’t know that I am relishing her ongoing bad karma behind her back while mine spirals upward.  And, if that isn’t bad enough, I also happen to know that this newly formed frienemy relationship with Sondra has absolutely nothing to do with miscommunication—this is tied to fate. 

Feeling good after leaving a Halloween party where everyone else wore scary costumes and we strutted around in sexy ones, Sondra and I just needed to stop at a swanky lounge on our way home to show off some of that fabulous T & A.  

As I suspected, the only eligible man (other than the kitchen staff) hit it off beautifully with Sondra.  She is a cute woman and she really knows how to pour on the charm.  The two of them fell into one of those intense conversations broken up occasionally with her touching on his shirt sleeve or doing one of those aren’t-I-coy giggles.  Completely left out, but not entirely dejected because the kitchen staff was young and hot, I give Sondra space and “alone time” with her new man.

Denver Confidential: I’m Keeping This One (I Found Him First)

by Julie Robinson
It’s quasi-official: I have found someone I’m interested in enough to take myself off of the midlife dating market.  This should be a joyous occasion—right?  No more bad first dates, no more agonizing over online profiles, no more worrying about if I’m doing it all correctly.  Yeah, right.  Who are we fooling here?  Have ya’ read my blog?

From the very beginning I can tell this time around is going to be different.  Our first date to the dog park is so chill that I don’t even notice a stream of dog slobber slowly making its way down my leg.  After Bennett catches the Frisbee six thousand times, we make our way over to an artsy coffee shop, and I proceed to talk my date into buying one of my designer dressers over lattes.  What?  It was his idea.

He wears the same T-shirt to our second date, which includes a charming brunch and us loading said dresser into the back of his Saab.  He and his trusty T-shirt show up yet again later that weekend at my furniture boutique.  Our most recent time together starts off well (he found a different shirt to wear) with grilled steak and ends with us making out on his sectional sofa.  Yeah, that was my idea.   

I can’t say I’m in love or anything, but I do find that I’m excited enough that the stakes are escalating.  I’m not sleeping well and really want to get over these holy-shit-I-really-like-this-guy jitters so I don’t royally fuck things up beyond help.   So, I enlist the help of a good friend (and—conveniently enough—dating coach), Karen Johnson.  Karen is the founder and owner of Date Scholars, a relationship coaching service where she shares a lot of little-known information about the opposite sex and teaches people how to respond to the other gender in more productive ways.  Why didn’t I think of this sooner?  

ME:  Let’s get the most important question out of the way first: Should I get Botox?

KAREN:  Skip the Botox – you don’t need it.  A lack of wrinkles isn’t a man’s first priority anyway.

ME:  Whew!  That’s a relief.  I hate needles.  Ok, so besides, the: “don’t sleep with him too soon—blah, blah, blah. . .”—what’s the one piece of advice I should definitely follow? 

KAREN:  Don’t sleep with him too soon.  Don’t wait too long either!  Men don’t really want us jumping right in the sack – they like the game of pursuit and the anticipation.  But we need to hint at our openness to the idea of sex with him, at the right time.  They need to know that we’re interested in the prospect of sex.

ME:  Yeah, I get that one wrong a bit more than I care to admit.  Can you offer a guarantee that he will fall madly in love with me if I religiously follow your advice?