Meeting My State Representative

One of my favorite places to meet my girlfriends for a quick lunch or a drink after dinner is a local hangout about a mile from my house. One evening on a weeknight, Ali and I sat at the bar. We talked about our husbands, our relationships, and life in general. There were four other people at the U-shaped bar: two a few seats down from us and two directly across from us.
Oversharing
I had been sharing (or oversharing) stories about my sex life. (See the Blog “Hibiscus!”) I talked about keeping it fresh and new in the bedroom, mentioning the things I did to try to keep Matthew happy. We discussed several topics, and then somehow we got on the topic of anal sex. I admitted that I had tried it (see Blog “Never Say Never II: Anal Sex”) and went on to explain that if enough lube was used, I actually enjoyed it. The fact that Matthew was really into it was a turn on, too.

Overheard
My story ended, and I looked around. I had the attention of the entire bar. (As I’ve mentioned before, I am loud.) Awkward. The gentleman in his mid-50s a few seats down leaned over and said, “That was fascinating. I just wish I could meet someone my age who liked to do that, too.” I reached over to shake his hand and introduced myself. (No shame, really; I have no shame).

“Hey, I’m Katherine.”

“Nice to meet you, Katherine. I am your state representative,” he replied.

Then I blurted out “John Smith!” He was tickled that I knew his name. (And honestly, I don’t know how I pulled it out of my ass, but I did.)

Then I looked across the bar and recognized the woman sitting there with her husband. She had looked familiar earlier, but it wasn’t until I bared my sexual soul to the nearby general public that I could place her.

“Oh hi Stephanie,” I said. “I didn’t recognize you there.” (Obviously.) Stephanie was a colleague I knew from the Junior League. Of course.

Now whenever I see Stephanie around town, we nod and wave with a knowing look on our faces. And when I encounter Representative Smith, whether in public or in the Statehouse, he gives me a big hug. He knows my “secret.” And I know his.

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