Finally they took another break, and that time Mark went for the drinks. This time all the tables on the floor were taken, so they ended up in a booth. And Kitty wasted no time in crawling into Mike’s lap and start making out. Karen sat there a little uncomfortable as she watched him slip his hand up and down her friend’s back.Finally Mark returned and sat next to Karen, their hips and thighs touching after he put the drinks on the table. Karen picked hers up and took a sip, moving away slightly so there was an inch or so between them. She thanked him for the drink, and told him that she was only there for dancing and a few drinks, she was not looking for anything else.He gave her a smile, and said “That’s fine, I’m having a good time. And it looks like Mike and your friend are too it seems.” Karen laughed, and said that Kitty normally did. Karen then went on to talk about some of the adventures they had together when she was in college also. Karen was talking about some of the things. Now we were old pals. We had so much in common, growing up a few blocks apart, and she wanted to have lunch. Sure, I said, why not? I wondered what she looked like at twenty-eight. Probably fat and faded, the mother of several brats, living in the 'burbs with dishpan hands and tired bouffant hair. She arrived at my apartment with a gourmet picnic basket. Shrimp on ice, duck pate, champagne, and she was more gorgeous than ever. She drove a Mercedes and although she had her longish dark hair in a ponytail, no makeup, in jeans and a t-shirt, she looked like a million bucks. And those big brown eyes, so happy to see me! I didn't have much to say about myself. I was still a hippie, unmarried, and despite my degree in History, I worked in a restaurant kitchen for near-minimum wage. She had married a dentist several years older than her and though she was still childless she had a wonderful life. She couldn't ask for more. Except one thing. "I don't know why," she explained, "but I can't.
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