“So”, she said, “I’ve been divorced a couple years. I was married for 13 years.”

“That’s a long time to be married, I was married for 19 years to the day. Seriously, I signed my divorce papers on my 19th anniversary.”

“That’s such a strange coincidence”, she said

We talked for a while longer. I sipped on my club soda with lime and she sipped on her Michelob Ultra. As a former drinker, I’ve always thought, “if you’re going to drink, drink.” Michelob Ultra is for people who can’t decide if they want to drink or not. Just drink water. We talked about New Orleans, the south, music. What it was like for her in the restaurant business and what it’s like for me in education.

Then she said, “most people are pretty shocked when they find out I was married to a woman for 13 years. I’m interested in men now though.”

I stopped, tried to play it cool. I think I DID actually, play it cool that is. But it was like the whole bar stopped and looked at us. Then the whole bar did a full 360 spin. The whole time, I’m trying to play it cool. We talked for a while longer and hugged goodbye.

It’s hard to say who ghosted who in that relationship. We both vanished.

Dating in your 40s , is an effort to find out what everyone’s big skeleton is in their closet. For some, maybe she used to be a lesbian, for others, maybe they’ve had weight loss surgery and carry major body image problems. Or maybe they have 5 kids from 5 different men.

That’s just her problem, his skeleton might be he had an affair that helped break up his marriage or maybe he’s a recovering alcoholic who goes to meetings.

VIRGINIA BEACH, VA

Comic book stores are strange places in that, while completely independent from each other, are invariably the same. The man behind the counter I took for owner operator. He was wearing an ill-fitting red tshirt, Walter White Breaking Bad glasses, and of course, suspenders and black jeans. This character, apparently in his early 50s I’d say, I took to know everything there is to know about comic books. I had no evidence to support this claim, it just seemed obvious.

It is in these, high-context, lots-to-look-at, but seems like nothing – environments that I deliberately seek out. In other words, it seemed as though nothing ever happened in this comic book store, but one tiny scratch below the surface revealed years of backstory and and a hive of activity. The trick is to gently scratch the ant hill without knocking the whole thing over or making your presence conspicuous. My cousin, Eli, knows I love these types of places and, as my host, made sure that I explored this one.

The comic book store’s charm and activity went well beyond the man working behind the counter. I watched as a man brought in a box of comics. The man behind the counter exclaimed that termites had gotten in the box and therefore significantly hurt the resale value. “See how the covers of all the comics are bumpy?”, the owner explained. “That’s because termites have gotten into the box. I will have to put gloves on and treat every single book one at a time, so I will give you $50 for the whole box”. I was amazed. Pretending not to listen. Was this a hustle? Were the termites real? Apparently, they were real enough for the seller because the price was immediately agreed to. As for me, I had no doubt that the suspendered owner of the comic book store was going to meticulously clean every issue by gloved hand, one at a time. I gazed upon the racks upon racks and boxes upon boxes of comics in the store like fields of Illinois wheat, and I suspected that this man knew every single comic book by name.

Now, when it comes to comic books, I have next to zero interest. Munchy and the Squirrel have significantly more interest so they were powering their way through boxes of issues covering topics like the Avengers, Stranger Things, old-school reps like Scooby Doo and Fred Flintstone. The Squirrel picked out a comic book about Peter Porker and Spider-Pig… get it. As she read I walked to the back of the store to the anime section. Now, if you don’t know anything about comic book stores, and I don’t then you have no idea that the anime section is where they keep the tiny statues of topless cartoon women. The whole vibe gave me the feeling that there could very well have been a fully functioning sex doll behind one of the closed doors, but I did not investigate

I looked around, as one does when they are in an embarrassing environment they are looking to escape from. I made it to the movie posters before I noticed that my crew was lining up to leave. It was now or never to get a look in the back office. This would offer me a glimpse into suspender-man’s day-to-day life. As I walked by the door, I noticed the distinct smell of Ramen noodles. On the desk was an FM radio, a loaf of bread, a coffee pot, and half eaten Ritz crackers. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there was no sex doll to be found. The story never turns out like I wish it would.