Good advice

I was already seated at a table for two, a girlie half-pint in front of me, when L arrived. I recognised her as soon as she walked in the door, but My God! Had she aged overnight, or was that picture taken a long time ago? Her profile said she was 47, but she looked older! I'm no young man (although I have been called that not so long ago), but I am simply not attracted to older women any more. Unless her name is Susan Sarandon.

She ordered a large glass of white wine topped up with a little lemonade, no ice.

We sat down and we talked. Exactly like we have been doing for the last week or so via email, text and IM. She about her daughter, me about my crazy wife, her boyfriend and my son. The first twenty minutes felt like I was with my therapist. She insists she doesn't give advice, but she does. Sort of.

Don't get me wrong, she doesn't talk shit or spout clichés for the sake of it; she actually makes a lot of sense. Without the obvious drawback of intense emotional involvement, it is easier to see things dispassionately. So I listened. She suggested I forget about Mary and N and their little games, and concentrate on me and G. She's right. What happens when she gets out I will deal with when it happens. But I have what L called "a great opportunity" to help my son get through this and come out a better, stronger person, with a better education.

Time passed quickly.

Then she lit up a cigarette.

Okay we were in a pub, and it's on her profile, but instantly all remaining hope of us being a couple vanished with the first curling haze of blueish smoke that drifted slowly towards the ceiling. I finished my beer a little quicker. An hour after we arrived, I said I had to go. We hugged in the parking lot, and said we would do this again next week. I'm not sure we will.

In other developments, I can report that this internet dating thing is a gold mine. In the last 24 hours, three women have contacted me, one has responded negatively to my initial contact, and another has agreed to meet for coffee on Thursday. And R and I are meeting for the first time for drinks and dinner on Saturday. I reluctantly had to postpone our appointment for tomorrow for a week, but she seemed very understanding. I will text her tomorrow evening instead.

Despite my screwed-up marriage, things are looking up in my social calendar.