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I was having dinner at a new Mexican restaurant in my hometown with a girl friend and her husband after another female friend was a no show. Naturally, dining with a married couple makes a single woman feel like a third wheel. I sat across from my friends as we munched through the chips and dip. Kathy’s husband has always struck me as, well, OK, good body, runs, bikes and swims but she has said little about their sex life. Oh the normal girl talk, sex just has not been one of our hot topics. I’ve been in their home, and in their pool, so it isn’t like I haven’t seen her — but never Jim. He’s always come in well-dressed, gone inside and left us to our floats and lotions and the sun. Before our entrees came, Jim managed to spill his drink. The waiter cleaned it quickly, but could not get it out of his bench seat cushion. He moved over to my side of the table and I gave it no thought.

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