The nervous pit in Olga’s stomach didn’t even wait for the sun to rise. Her body began protesting against the potentially awkward evening program early in the morning. She dreaded first dates. She hated the dreadful role-playing, the nervous laughter, and the heavy silences that occasionally set in. She could already imagine the huge sweat stain on her partner’s shirt while he tried to convince her that there wasn’t a smarter, more capable man than him on Earth.
She liked Albert. She still shivered when she thought about how they danced the previous weekend. When she closed her eyes, she could recall his scent and touch, which immediately filled her with desire. Albert had tried to kiss her, but she, like a fool, pulled away. If she had let him, they might have ended up at his place, and by now, she would already know what kind of lover Albert was. In fact, if she were lucky, she might even know what kind of living conditions he had. Was he messy? Organized? Did he still live in the small room at his mother’s house? Was his bathroom clean? Was he married?
Many people sneer at one-night stands, but they can save a lot of time. Once you’re over thirty and looking for a serious relationship, every minute counts. Olga didn’t want to waste time experimenting. She didn’t want to gradually discover someone else’s personality, and she had no patience for slowly uncovering her partner’s hidden traits. She couldn’t stand lack of independence, messy family backgrounds, sloppiness, dirty bathrooms, and even an old, hardened toilet brush was reason enough for her to end things.
The trickiest part was always finding out their age. The candidate couldn’t be older than thirty-five. Olga had no interest in the often lazy, out-of-shape guys over forty-five. Thirty-five-year-olds still want to impress. They work out, take care of themselves, look good, smell good, and are always ready for action. To perform well at work, Olga needed a balanced sex life. She needed frequent sex to keep up the pace. If things weren’t going well in her private life, her subordinates paid the price. She treated them terribly on those days.
Olga already knew Albert from salsa class. Although they hadn’t talked much, the chemistry between them was evident from the start. Still, she never thought they would ever move their relationship to a different level. But at that party the previous weekend, they hadn’t let go of each other for hours. Albert only wanted to dance with Olga, who stayed close to the young man. It was clear that sooner or later, the evening would end in a good round of lovemaking. She wasn’t exactly sure how old Albert was, but he didn’t seem older than the critical thirty-five.
They had planned their date for seven in the evening. Albert, as discussed, had reserved a table at an excellent seafood restaurant, though Olga no longer thought it was a good idea. So many things could go wrong with a poorly prepared seafood platter. She glanced at the bottle of rum. Maybe she should drink a little—just enough to brace herself against a potential stomach upset. If the shellfish wasn’t fresh, anything could happen. Besides, strong spices had been bothering her lately too. She downed a small glass. The alcohol immediately started burning her stomach. What had she been thinking? Why on earth had she drunk when even a light dessert wine could affect her? She tore off a piece of baguette and stuffed it into her mouth.
The doorbell rang. Oh, crap! Why was this stupid Albert arriving twenty minutes early? She still needed to brush her teeth again. She couldn’t answer the door reeking of rum. Well, they were going out to dinner first, after all. If there was going to be anything, like a kiss, it would only happen after dinner, when both their teeth would have half a plate of food between them, softened by some alcohol. Besides, why would she eat shellfish? Not everything had shellfish. The rum was completely unnecessary. She was furious with herself for letting panic get the better of her, especially since she had started sweating. And that satin top? A real disaster—it showed off the sweat stains for all to see.
She ran upstairs. Let Albert wait a bit. He could see the lights were on, so he knew she was home. It would only take two minutes to throw on something sleeveless and rinse her mouth with mouthwash. She sent a text to Albert, who was standing at the door, letting him know she needed five more minutes.
Albert looked as nice, fresh, and elegant as always. He gave Olga a gentle kiss on the cheek, then opened the car door for her.
“Your son is such a great guy,” Albert enthused. “We bumped into each other at the gym and had a nice chat. Can you believe we went to the same high school, but somehow never met? Although, given how many of us went there, it’s not surprising. Anyway, I talked him into coming to the next salsa class. You don’t mind, do you?”