“Let me be brutally honest, he was an absolute douche.” Lola vented into the phone. “There are special places in Hell for men like him.” It was true, she was certain of it. There had to be. That man…there were no words.

“Sorry you had such a rough day,” Amy said, offering what little condolence she could. She was hardly new to the stories. Lola had a boss from hell. She was thankful she didn’t have to put up with the nonsense her friend went through. No thank you.

“Power hungry beast,” she grunted. “Anyway, how was your day? Want to grab something to eat this weekend, maybe hit Spice?” The weekends never held too much excitement, but she could always count on Amy to liven things up.

“My day…” Amy paused to exaggerate, “was interesting.” Her voice went up an octave. “I may have a date. I don’t want to make plans yet. I think he’s working up the courage to ask me out for the weekend.” He better be working up the courage. She’d waited long enough and patience wasn’t her strong point.

“Fine, I’ll just be the lonely, pathetic old woman at the bar without you. You know, the forty- something year old, trying desperately to fit in with the younger kids. The kids who still fit into skinny jeans; the ones who make me look like their chaperone.” She never felt old until she was dating again. Well, trying to date. “There has to be somewhere the older crowd hangs out. It’s like Spice for the under thirty set and Bucky’s for the over sixty set. Where’s my age bracket?”

It’s like forty and fifty year old people were hiding out in some secret cave, unable to come out and play.

“Nobody has time to go out. Responsibility is a bitch,” Amy responded.

“Maybe I should try one of those online dating sites,” Lola started. “Who knows, maybe that’s where the fishing pond for the middle aged people is.” She sighed. It sounded like too much work. “Eh, I’ll just go hang at Spice and watch the younger kids hook up. It’s not as much fun alone. I can’t be catty without you.” Well, she could, but it was more fun to be snarky with her pal, picking out who would be drunk by her second drink, who would hook up with who in the bathroom, and which person would have lost half of their clothes as the night wore on. Drunk, sloppy, children. She had no idea how kids in their twenties became children in her eyes, but the older she got, the younger they seemed.

“If he doesn’t come through and ask me out, I’ll be there,” Amy reassured. “You’re right though, we should probably find a new place. Spice feels a little…” she trailed off.

“Young?” She hated that her ex-husband’s words rang in her head. You’re no spring chicken.

Asshole.

“I’ll get back to you, promise. And I don’t think the idea of online dating is all that freaky anymore. More people are doing it. Maybe I’ll join you.” Amy hardly needed online dating. She had a long list of men waiting for a turn to date her. She was a goddess; the problem was she was a picky goddess.

“It’s not like you have any lack of dates, your standards are just too stringent. You’ll never settle,” Lola pointed out.

“Come on, that’s not true. I almost got married.” She almost got married a few times and then pulled out. Maybe Lola had a point, but a girl has to have standards.

They said their good-byes and hung up the phone. Lola rummaged through the cabinets for grub. She sighed. Food was the last thing she needed right now. Her size 20 jeans were already getting snug and there were 22’s in her very near future if she didn’t watch it. Thank goodness for elastic, at least she still had some comfy pants she could stretch out a bit more before giving in to her growing tummy and hips. She’d be damned if she was going up yet another size. Okay, call it what you will, she could probably wear the 22’s, but she wasn’t calling it that yet. As long as she could stretch more life out of her 20’s, she’d remain a 20 in her eyes.