SHARON
It was a Wednesday evening, the middle of the work week when my wife, Linda, and I agreed to separate. It was her desire to do so, and I had decided not to resist.
Friday came, the end of the work week. I was trying to get used to the idea of being a single man. I planned to spend the evening with a friend. First, however, I stopped at a local tavern to quaff a beer or two.
Linda and I were still sleeping in the same bed. We were living a harmonious life and seemed to have no serious issues between us. We were regularly engaging in intimate relations. But all was not well. Linda was having an affair with a man, Paul, who was married and had two young children which led to her desire to end our marriage. I had discovered her affair and confronted her.
We were in a defacto open marriage. Linda wanted to end our marriage altogether and so we were separating. Until she could find an apartment, we continued living as a (open) married couple. I expected that once we separated, our intimate behavior would cease. Paul’s wife was not aware that he was involved in the affair. As yet, he had no plans to separate from her.
{The events that led to our current circumstances are described in this story:}
One thing I did not intend to do just yet was to become involved with another woman.
I was seated on a barstool sipping a draft beer. The entrance to the establishment was diagonally behind me at about four o’clock. I could see the entrance out of the corner of my eye. At one point, I happened to notice a woman pass through the door. She looked around frantically. She briefly drew my attention. “That woman’s crazy,” I thought. From her expression and demeanor, I surmised that she was someone with serious psychiatric issues. I returned to sipping my beer.
After frenziedly scanning the area, she made a sudden, swift, determined beeline to the stool beside mine. The bar was not crowded; she could have sat by herself or sat on a stool next to one of the other men seated at the bar, but she deliberately chose the stool next to mine. She seated herself and ordered a draft beer. Then she introduced herself and started a conversation.
“I’m Sharon,” she said. “Let’s talk.”
As I said, I was not there to meet women, but Sharon just sat down and invited me to talk. I could have declined, of course, but I didn’t see how it could hurt to engage in some conversation before heading to my friend’s house.
Why she chose to sit with me, never having seen me before, is still a mystery.
She began by telling me that she had recently retired from work as an exotic dancer, meaning she made her living removing her clothing while dancing on a stage. For the time being she was depending on public assistance. Our state’s public assistance law stipulated that recipients who were able to work were required to accept work assigned to them by the department. Sharon was assigned janitorial duties at a local hospital.
She explained, “Yesterday, I noticed everyone talking about me. They were accusing me of having sex with some of the married doctors. I got into an argument with one of the nurses. I was afraid to go back there today. I got sanctioned because I didn’t show up for work.”
Getting sanctioned means that some of her assistance money was withheld for failing to cooperate with work requirements. I guessed that she had paranoid tendencies.
I asked, “Did you actually hear any of the people talking about you?”
“No,” she answered, “but I know they were.”
“Maybe you just have an active imagination,” I suggested.
She looked into my eyes and said, “You might be right. You’re pretty smart.”
Her response made me wonder. I had heard that if someone is genuinely paranoid they cannot be dissuaded from their delusion.
Despite her appearing to have paranoid tendencies, I found Sharon a fascinating and attractive woman. She described her experiences as an exotic dancer. She traveled from town to town working in various milieus. Her latest gig, the last one before she retired, was in a local bar near the one in which we were now sitting. She had a friend who was still working at that location.
Sharon told me that many well-known politicians would frequent some of the locations where she worked. She had done work with some of them in VIP lounges.
She described politicians as some of the most perverted clients that she worked with. She was generally disgusted with them.
Sharon was originally from Boulder, Colorado. I had lived in that city for a year. Her parents still lived there and she was in regular contact with them.
{I am working on a story describing how I came to be in Boulder and why I left. When the story is posted I will add a link in this spot}
We finished our drafts. By this time, I realized that I was not going to make it to my friend’s house as I had planned. I was enjoying my conversation with Sharon. Despite her troubles, she was a fascinating woman from an unfamiliar world. From our conversation, I got the impression that she was a sweet and kind woman.
When I offered to buy another round Sharon said, “I’m an alcoholic, I will always accept an offer of a drink, even if I am just taking advantage of the one who is offering; I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
I was operating according to the barroom tradition that when two people are socializing and drinking together it’s customary to buy each other rounds of drinks. I didn’t get the impression that Sharon was taking advantage of me.
“ I’ll take my chances,” I replied.
I ordered another round of drinks and we continued our conversation. It was my turn. I told Sharon that I was married and living with my wife but we had already agreed to separate so I’m acting as if I were single. I mentioned that my wife was a secretary at our local college.
Then Sharon looked at me and said, “ You’re a good one.”
I don’t know what she meant by that.
Our conversation continued.
“ Your wife is going to get people to come after me,” She said. “She’ll get all of the secretaries that she knows to watch me everywhere I go and report me to her.”
“ Sharon,” I said, “ my wife doesn’t even know I’m here. She has no idea who you are. Besides that, she is having an affair with another man, and we are separating. She wouldn’t care if she did know. She doesn’t know any secretaries outside of the ones who work in the same office as she does.”
Sharon relaxed and seemed to be reassured.
We drank and talked for a while longer. Sharon was buying her own beer, and she was drinking much more and faster than I was. Finally, Sharon said, “I’m ready to go home now. Why don’t you come with me? I live two blocks from here.”
I had at least one too many beers for it to be safe for me to drive home. My car was parked in a secure spot where it could be left for the night. So why not? It was about a mile walk to my home. I would have had no trouble walking home. But I was enjoying my time with Sharon. So why not extend it?
I wasn’t sure of Sharon’s intentions. Was she interested in a one-time affair; was she hoping to begin a longer relationship; or was she just interested in continuing our conversation? I knew I wasn’t ready to get involved with another woman. I should at least wait until Linda and I were separated and no longer sleeping together. Furthermore, Linda might be wondering where I was. Although we were separating, she would probably be concerned. It was getting late. I was quite confused, but I found myself following Sharon to her residence. I had made my choice.
Sharon rented a single room on the second floor of a multi-unit dwelling. There is a shared bathroom. She used an electric hot plate for cooking.
On our way to Sharon’s place, she met a male acquaintance. He was drinking from a bottle of whiskey and he offered us a swig, which she accepted, and I declined; she took several swigs. As we enter the building, one of her neighbors is in the corridor and he also offers us some whiskey from a bottle. Once again, she accepts and I decline.
We enter her room and she begins to wobble. She reaches her bed, falls onto it, and promptly descends into a barely conscious state. She was sufficiently conscious to say plainly, “Get in, I’m ready.”
It seemed that Sharon had invited me to her room with the expectation of a sexual encounter. However, I was fairly intoxicated and would not have been able to perform without her active participation and assistance. I decided it was time to say “good night” to Sharon. I managed to work the blanket she was lying on out from under her. I placed it over her to make sure she would not be cold. I believed we would be seeing each other again.
When I arrived home, Linda, who had been sleeping, awakened when I entered the bedroom. I changed into my sleeping clothes and slid into the bed.
“You were with a girl tonight?” Linda inquired.
“Yes,” I responded.
“Well,” she said, “I suppose, under the circumstances I can’t object.”
“We didn’t do anything sexual,” I added truthfully.
We slept. The next day, Saturday, I ate breakfast. After a leisurely cup of coffee with Linda, I walked back to the tavern to retrieve my car. On the way, I stopped to visit Sharon in her room.
Sharon was awake and sober. During our short conversation, Sharon explained, “When I am drunk and half asleep like last night I want you to f*** me anyway; don’t hesitate.”
“Okay,” I said, “but it would be better to wait ’til a time when you are not that drunk, when you can be an active participant.”
Her words suggested that she expected to see me again in the future. I hadn’t intended to enter an ongoing relationship or even a one-nighter. But, Sharon had wandered into my life, and I found it difficult to let her pass.
Could this really be happening? It seemed surreal. One woman is walking out of my life, leaving me in despair. Almost immediately, another woman comes into my life, lifting my spirits and easing my sorrow. Something like this might not happen in a hundred lifetimes, but it is happening to me, now.
It was beginning to seem as if fate had sent an angel to lead me through these dark times. I was confused and conflicted.
During our visit, Sharon told me about some of her experiences as an exotic dancer. I had never been personally acquainted with someone in that line of work. I was discovering that, aside from her apparent psychiatric issues, she had a kind and sweet nature, something that I would not have expected of a woman in her line of work.
She described incidents where men in her audience found her attractive and wanted to date her. She showed me a love letter that one had given her.
When she was not on stage, part of her job was to circulate and talk to the men in the barroom. The idea was to encourage them to buy her a drink so she would sit with them awhile. Sometimes, after having a drink with her a man might decide that he wanted to explore the prospect of entering a romantic relationship with her.
I soon realized I was developing a desire to begin a relationship with Sharon. I was diving deeper into a state of affairs I never bargained for. My defacto open marriage was opening wider. Sharon was clear about one thing; normally, she would not be involved in an affair with a married man. She was, however, comfortable with the knowledge that she was not the cause of Linda and I separating. Sharon and I were embarking on a journey together. I would have to navigate through circumstances unfamiliar and unprecedented in my experience.
