Scott! That was his name. Lived near the outlet stores. Talked a lot about being smarter with money. I know, not like Martha, who always had some expensive home renovation project up her sleeve.
And then, I remember that time itself seemed to stop. The mundanity of everyday events gave way to the exhilaration of my suddenly unpredictable existence. No more Martha taking me for granted. No more Martha calling all the shots. I was living the moment, immersed in the life I always wanted before caution overwhelmed desire.
We were on the dance floor, Scott and I, moving to the music, his hands all over my body politic. Everyone was watching, and I mean everyone – fellow partygoers, bartenders, passersby staring in the windows. Look at me, the Massachusetts Electorate, the bellwether of America!
