Indian Wife
But with the memory of last night I was awake at 12:30 and by 1:00 I gave up on sleeping and got my butt out of bed.I didn't take a newspaper; my weird hours didn't cater to it. So my usual routine was to run a cup of coffee, look at a little TV while I drank it, do the three esses—shit, shower and shave—and then log on to the national news on my laptop. Which I did. Some asshole killed himself along with his wife and three kids, some other asshole detonated a suicide bomb in the middle east and wasted himself along with a couple of civilians, a third asshole ... oh, hell, the same crap as usual. The weather was OK, early fall and nice for a change, politicians were passing their usual hot air, some damn fourth-generation repeat of a movie that came out of a cartoon was tops on the charts, and who cared about any of it?But I couldn't rid myself of last night. Suppose— well, just suppose.Most days, once I'd waked up enough and had at least one cup of coffee, I'd get on the horn to. All of the travels helped to convince me even more that I had chosen the right place to live in Sedona. And as I began to meet people and make friends in town, my decision was confirmed even more. I joined a country club and settled into a life of leisure. I let it be known that I was a certified massage therapist, but didn’t share too much more about my good fortune in the lottery. I had learned my lesson. I was meeting a lot of nice people and doing a few massages on selected female clients, but my sex life was nothing to brag about. I had been with a total of six women since my big win, and I hadn’t felt compelled to pursue a long term relationship with any of them. We dated and remained friends and had occasional sex but nothing special. Then I met Trish. I had made an appointment have my hair cut. She was the third person I had tried in town, not having been impressed with the first two. I liked her from the moment I met her. She was pretty in a classy kind of way. Short blonde.
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