Jane wished she didn’t feel that her life was over. She knew that twenty-nine was hardly ancient, but as she watched all of her friends and relatives embark on happy marriages or exciting careers a good five years previous, she felt bereft and left behind. She didn’t know when she missed her turn and she was starting to think that she had to return to the beginning of the line in order to get another chance.
She tried not to think too much about it, but everywhere she turned, she saw signs of her missed opportunities. She looked around the living room and saw her diploma on the wall. She had gotten all of her qualifications but still hadn’t found a job that was a good fit. She knew she was lucky to have a job that paid her enough to scrape together some semblance of independence. She still needed the occasional check her father sent her, but she didn’t have to rely on it.
She took a long look at herself in the mirror. She thought she was attractive enough, not spectacularly beautiful, but no totally repellant either. She pulled back her hair. Maybe she needed a haircut or a makeover. Would it be worth the effort or the expense? What if it didn’t work? She couldn’t change jobs and she didn’t really feel comfortable making a dramatic change. She sighed. She would figure it out eventually. Meanwhile it was time to join her friends for coffee.
***
Michael was desperate to escape his sister’s clutches. She had appeared at his front door, far too early on a Saturday morning, intent on taking him shopping. Her tone had implied that all of his problems were a direct result of his clothing choices. While he didn’t care at all about his clothing, he did care a lot about his sister, so he resigned himself to a morning of trying on clothing and ruthless critique.
Two hours later he felt pushed to the limits and agreed to one final outfit and hair styling so they could wrap it up and get a cup of much needed coffee. He felt over styled and overheated. He wasn’t sure how he looked, but he didn’t have time to change back into his real clothes. He walked into the coffee shop and headed for the counter to order.
***
Jane’s friends were just as successful as usual. The current lament was the lack of time to meet men. Jane murmured sympathetically. She had plenty of time to meet men; she just didn’t like most of the men she met. She joined some of her married friends on Girls Only Nights, but she spent most of those nights keeping them from drinking so much they would call her the next day and accuse her of sabotaging their marriages by allowing them to flirt with strangers and drink that extra shot. Jane realized that it wasn’t as grim as she was making it out to be. It was just very wearying.
She was sipping her coffee and listening to her friends debate the options of sharing a scone when she heard the door jingle open. The man who entered was exactly the kind of man she avoided at clubs. He was wearing jeans that were so narrow she was surprised that he could walk at all. He didn’t look at all comfortable. His sweater wasn’t much better. It featured a collar that was artfully popped up, she assumed to frame his admittedly handsome face. His hair was painfully over-styled. She turned away. This was definitely not the guy for her.
***
Michael did not like that his normally long stride was hobbled by the narrowness of his jeans. The things he did for his sister! He also didn’t like the fact that the door jangled so loudly that it caused every head to turn his way. He couldn’t exactly flee back into the street; his pants were far too tight for that, not to mention the sweater wasn’t exactly warm and even if he could get out the door in some dignified manner, he would probably freeze to death before he got to his car. He would just have to square his shoulders and face the well deserved ridicule from the patrons.
There was a small group of women at a
She tried not to think too much about it, but everywhere she turned, she saw signs of her missed opportunities. She looked around the living room and saw her diploma on the wall. She had gotten all of her qualifications but still hadn’t found a job that was a good fit. She knew she was lucky to have a job that paid her enough to scrape together some semblance of independence. She still needed the occasional check her father sent her, but she didn’t have to rely on it.
She took a long look at herself in the mirror. She thought she was attractive enough, not spectacularly beautiful, but no totally repellant either. She pulled back her hair. Maybe she needed a haircut or a makeover. Would it be worth the effort or the expense? What if it didn’t work? She couldn’t change jobs and she didn’t really feel comfortable making a dramatic change. She sighed. She would figure it out eventually. Meanwhile it was time to join her friends for coffee.
***
Michael was desperate to escape his sister’s clutches. She had appeared at his front door, far too early on a Saturday morning, intent on taking him shopping. Her tone had implied that all of his problems were a direct result of his clothing choices. While he didn’t care at all about his clothing, he did care a lot about his sister, so he resigned himself to a morning of trying on clothing and ruthless critique.
Two hours later he felt pushed to the limits and agreed to one final outfit and hair styling so they could wrap it up and get a cup of much needed coffee. He felt over styled and overheated. He wasn’t sure how he looked, but he didn’t have time to change back into his real clothes. He walked into the coffee shop and headed for the counter to order.
***
Jane’s friends were just as successful as usual. The current lament was the lack of time to meet men. Jane murmured sympathetically. She had plenty of time to meet men; she just didn’t like most of the men she met. She joined some of her married friends on Girls Only Nights, but she spent most of those nights keeping them from drinking so much they would call her the next day and accuse her of sabotaging their marriages by allowing them to flirt with strangers and drink that extra shot. Jane realized that it wasn’t as grim as she was making it out to be. It was just very wearying.
She was sipping her coffee and listening to her friends debate the options of sharing a scone when she heard the door jingle open. The man who entered was exactly the kind of man she avoided at clubs. He was wearing jeans that were so narrow she was surprised that he could walk at all. He didn’t look at all comfortable. His sweater wasn’t much better. It featured a collar that was artfully popped up, she assumed to frame his admittedly handsome face. His hair was painfully over-styled. She turned away. This was definitely not the guy for her.
***
Michael did not like that his normally long stride was hobbled by the narrowness of his jeans. The things he did for his sister! He also didn’t like the fact that the door jangled so loudly that it caused every head to turn his way. He couldn’t exactly flee back into the street; his pants were far too tight for that, not to mention the sweater wasn’t exactly warm and even if he could get out the door in some dignified manner, he would probably freeze to death before he got to his car. He would just have to square his shoulders and face the well deserved ridicule from the patrons.
There was a small group of women at a
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