I thought that I had the perfect life. Everything that I had done was designed to land me in my present position as president of the University of New Orleans, which is no small feat for a woman of forty. My carefully crafted persona of the executive woman, meticulous dressed, and always in control, at first was a role that I played. More and more, I had allowed that persona, with its lack of emotion to invade my marriage.
Looking back on it, my husband, John, had begun hinting that he wanted more of my time, more of my attention, and more sex, three years ago. I was full of my career, and was of the attitude that he should be satisfied that his wife was so successful. I continued going to all the meetings, and conventions, without regard to his feelings.
It was a shock, when he had divorce papers served on me. Two days after our divorce was final, he married his secretary, a woman of thirty-one.
At first, I was angry that my image was tarnished. Them, I immersed myself in my work, telling myself, that I did not need anyone in my life. Loneliness set in. We had sold our home, so I had moved into a condo, a new lonely place.
One day walking across campus, I watched a group of male students walk by me. I was curious as to what reaction they had to me, as a woman? They looked right through me. So much for my being attractive to the young set.
More disturbing, was the fact that other then a perfunctory greeting by the male facility, they too, looked right through me.
It was time to take a careful, honest look at myself to determine what kind of woman I am, and what I wanted to be. Naked, I stood looking at my self in the full length mirror. My hair was cut short, dark brown, and had a few white hairs showing. My breasts, tummy, butt, and upper legs displayed, only too well, where the extra fifty pounds that I had put on was located.
For the last three years of my marriage to John, I had complained that I could not breath with him on me, so he was relegated to side saddle.
I needed some advice. I sent an email to my older sister, Joan.
“Hi Joan, I need a big favor. You know how you and I studied people, so that I could acquire the traits and mannerisms of the female university administrator. Well, I have decided to make some major changes in how I look, and live, so that I become attractive to men.
I have never tried to loose weight before, but come hell or high water, I am going to lose fifty pounds. I have purchased some “Ultress” hair color. The next time that you see me, I will be a blond.
Here is the “Favor” part. Ask your hubby, Tommy, to tell you what he thought of me when he first met me, what he thinks other men think of me, and what I should change to become more attractive to men?
Tell me, word for word. Don’t leave anything out, or try to spare my feelings.”
Two days later, I received her reply.
“Dear Susanne, You asked for this, kiddo. You know how Tommy likes to have a few tall ones when he is watching a baseball game. Well, he was a little snickered last night. It was a good opportunity to ask him your questions. What came out was unvarnished, but what you asked for. Here goes.
First impression of you, was of a very pretty college girl, that had used her looks and brain to open all her doors for her, without going to the trouble of developing a pleasing, caring, personality.
As you are now, he thinks men would have little interest in you. Your fat, wear granny clothes, don’t use makeup, hair has little style, but most important, is you come across as a cold fish that has not had a new idea in fifteen years, like the other dip shit professors at your school. (His words.)
What to change? Oh boy, you are going to love this list! Color your hair. Let it grow, and do something with it. Get down to one hundred and twenty-five pounds. Work out, jog, or roller blade, so you appear trim and fit. See the top fifteen movies, get to know some of the current music artists, and read some novels, so you have something to talk about.
Go to a dance studio to learn how the kids dance now. The next one is going to blow you away. Tommy says that it is by far the most important, so here it comes. Go to some of the downtown lounges. Flirt, and dance with the guys. Let yourself be picked up. Go have long hot sex, with you doing your best to please the guy. Tommy said ten different guys over the next few months would do you a world of good. Tommy said that it would make you worldly, and hopefully you would begin to think of yourself as a sexual woman. Plus, you will learn how to please a man, if you work at it.
I almost fell out of the chair when he told me that. I have told him that the only man you ever had sex with was John.
Tommy may have something there, Susanne. I had sex with twenty-five guys in college. As you know, I have always been at ease around guys because of that.
Well, Kiddo, I hope this helps. Love, Joan”
I had not flirted with a strange man for twenty years. I printed the email for future reference.
After buying some exercise outfits, I enrolled at “Bobby Jo’s Dance,” and a fitness club, called “All Out.” I had started my program.
Ten weeks later, I was down to one hundred and thirty-five pounds, and the dancing and workouts had changed my figure, let me tell you. No pain, no gain they say. Sweat and pain were not strangers to me now.
In the local paper, it mentioned that several conventions were in town, so the city was swarming with men my age. I actually trembled as I unwrapped the “Frederick’s of Hollywood” box containing my order of new clothes. When fully dressed in my new duds, I stood looking at myself in the mirror. No one would recognize me now.
My hair was colored blond, and styled. I had half caret diamond ear rings. The lime green velvet dress, and matching shoes, were offset by my choker of pearls, and a thin white belt. I was in full go mode until I reached for the front door. I stopped, but finally had the courage to go out into the night.
I drove to the “Jefferson Lounge.” It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The lighting, such as it was, was lasers of different colors reflecting off a spinning globe, as well as slowly revolving around the room.
All but a few of the one hundred tables were occupied. Each table had a phone in the center, as well as a large number, so that people at one table could call and speak to anyone in the place.
Just as the waiter brought my “Bombay,” my phone rang. A male voice said, “Hi, I’m sitting to your left at table thirty-one. Could I come join you?” I peered his direction. A nice appearing guy, sitting with two other men, had a phone to his ear, and was waving his fingers at me. It brought back memories of a high school dance.
I wanted somebody to be with me. It was awkward sitting alone. “Yes…”
“Hi, I’m Jerry Butkis,” he drawled, as he sat down.
“Susanne Simpson. Where are you from?”
“Rancher from Bradshaw Texas, a little town, just South of Abilene. First time for me to visit, New Orleans.”
“Like it?”
“Enjoying it so far. The hunt for some excitement was going poorly, until you sauntered in,” he said with a big grin, as he looked at me a little sideways.
I could feel my face flush with embarrassment as the thought crossed my mind that the excitement he had in mind would surly include me naked, with him between my legs.
“Care to dance, Susanne?”
I stood up. He escorted me to the dance floor. The next tune was “Dance Fever.” My dance lessons paid off, as it had been one of “Bobby Jo’s practice songs. My rancher friend proved to be an excellent dancer. He had left his jacket at the table, so now I could see his broad shoulders, trim waist, and tight buns, as he moved like a big cat to the rhythm. There was no doubt that he was a working cowboy, and a lot more man then I had ever been around.
We danced for nine straight dances, without leaving the floor. My sweating was profuse from the eighty degree temperature, and the high humidity, “Jerry took out his handkerchief. After he finished dabbing the sweat off my face and neck, he kissed me lightly on the lips. I blinked, then stiffened.
