What the hell was I doing here with this woman?

We were in a bar, a quiet neighborhood place I liked to go where people knew eachother but also knew when to mind their own business. Callie and I sat iat a small table in the box. I had loaded up the cd-jukebox with a five-spot and picked out 20 songs - that ought to be enough. As I sipped my Crown Royal and she her wine, Gladys Knight was singing "Midnight Train to Georgia."

"I don't normally do this," she said.

"Let's skip that part."

"What part?"

"The I don't normally do this part. It doesn't matter, and even if it did it's not something I care about."

"You don't beat around the bush, do you," she said, smiling. She was nervous, but she was interested. I was not about to let up.

"I just don't like to waste time. I like to get to the heart of things."

Under the table, her high heeled shoe grazed my calf. Could have been inadvertent, but I wanted to think otherwise. I shifted in my seat, moving my leg, and her foot grazed my leg again, harder this time. Her eyes met mine and now there was no doubt. I smiled and she smiled back.

"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.

"I was, until recently. It got old."

"How so?"

"Stale is a better word for it."

"Who changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Usually when two people break up it's because one of them changed and one stayed the same."

"I guess that would be me. I mean here I am in a bar 16 hours from home with a strange man."

"How did you know I was strange?" I smiled. She smiled back, and again her foot brushed against my calf, this time staying there.

"I want you," I said, getting it out there. "I've been thinking about you since the moment I saw you in Frank's office."

She blushed a bit, but this woman wasn't backing down. It was clear the interest was mutual. "I haven't been with anyone since my divorce," she said.

"That," I said, signaling for the check, "is about to change, dear."