Kim's New Life Ch. 01

Satisfied I was staying, Allyson pulled a chair out for me, the one immediately to Kelly's right, before she turned and went back to her duties at the bar. As we started to sit, I realized that I had not released Kelly's hand (or was it that she hadn't released mine). I relaxed my grip with a little embarrassment.

"I'm on my second drink, Kim and I think that is your third. What do you say we get something to eat before we absorb too much alcohol on empty stomachs and fail to experience the maximum enjoyment from our new friendship?" Her comment sounded a little strange, in that I would consider her to be more of an acquaintance at this point. Nevertheless, I agreed simply because I knew I needed something to eat. As I mentioned, I had planned to get drunk but didn't want to do it too quickly. I was already starting out on the wrong side of my plan.

I agreed to her suggestion and a server suddenly appeared as if anticipating our need. I quickly noticed her outfit was the same as Allyson's, except that the top revealed more because her breasts were much larger, but the triangles of silk were the same size.

"Good evening, Dr. Peters. What can I get for you tonight?"

"Kim and I will have the fish and chips plate, please, Sam." Other than being surprised that she hadn't ask what I wanted, I accepted her selection without comment. As an aside to me, she did add, "I assume you aren't allergic to fish." I shook my head in reply.

"Fish and chips, it is, ma'am," the server commented. Will there be anything else?"

"Not at this moment, Sam. Allyson just refilled our drinks. Thanks."

"So, you're a doctor. I'm impressed. I never would have guessed."

"Remember that adage, Kim: You can't tell a book by its cover. My title is probably not what you're thinking, Kim. It's strictly academic. I should say titles. I hold two Doctorate degrees. One in Philosophy and one in Psychology. I am a department head and a professor at the University. Usually I ask people not to call me Doctor. I don't consider it a 'right' as do some academics. Sam is an exception. She is one of my former students. An excellent student, she somehow survived three of my courses. Her name is really Samantha, but I nicknamed her Sam the first time we met. The name has stuck with her ever since. Initially she didn't like it, but now she prefers it."

"She must. I did notice that her name tag even says 'Sam.' I'm still impressed and would never have guessed you held one Doctorate degree, let alone two. You look too young for that," I said with a slight laugh even though I considered her to be "older," as I previously mentioned.

"Let's just say that I graduated early," she replied, also laughing. "Well, if we are to be friends, maybe we should learn a little more about one another. Now that you know my profession, what is yours?"

I realized that I was enjoying her company despite my mood. We traded some limited personal information for the next half hour or so. When our food arrived, Kelly ordered another round of drinks. The conversation, while we ate, seemed to get a little more personal with each exchange. Initially I held back, still not wanting to reveal too much to someone I had just met. That was until I realized there was something about this woman that I really liked. In fact, I must admit that I was mesmerized by her. I don't consider myself to be much of a conversationalist but talking with her came easy. I felt comfortable just being in her presence. Intuitively I knew that she was someone I could trust and someone I would want as a friend if we ever met again. Looking back, I don't remember ever coming to this conclusion so soon with anyone.

Finally, she asked, "Are you ready to talk about it yet, Kim?"

"Talk about what?"

"Why you thought you wouldn't be good company; which, I must tell you, frankly, hasn't been true so far."

Once again, I was ready to tell her that I didn't think it was any of her business then realized that I hadn't thought about Jeff all the time we were talking. My comfort level had continued to increase so I decided to spill my feelings to her. She was right: maybe talking about it would be good therapy. "She is a psychologist, after all," I thought. I ended up telling her more and more about my relationship with Jeff, expressing great sorrow about our break-up. Uncontrollable tears ran down my cheek as I finally unloaded. She was a great listener, never interrupting once; not even when she pulled a tissue from her purse and handed it to me. When I finished my story, she took my hand in hers. "I imagine you have thought about him a lot this week?"

"Yes, every damn night."

"When you are alone in your hotel room..."

"Yes."

"I imagine you cried over him since you are crying now."

"Also, every night," I confessed.

"Thanks for sharing that with me, Kim. I understand, completely, what you're going through. My first, and thankfully only, boyfriend pulled the same shit on me. Well, you've answered another question."

"What do you mean, another question?"

"When Sam introduced you, I wondered if you were a full-fledged lesbian. Obviously, you are not. I assume you are bisexual then?

Her reply surprised me so much that my retort was more than a little terse. To say I almost came unglued would be an understatement. The alcohol helped my rage. "What the hell do you mean by that comment? Just because I came to a bar alone doesn't mean I am homosexual or even bisexual!! Do I look like someone who likes to go to bed with women?"