than I do.

Though Shawn was busy with his circuit board job, we still managed to spend some time together.

Without too much effort Jeff secured a job for himself at the Everett Mall slinging cinnamon buns for a chain, and Dorinda picked up work, also at the Everett Mall, doing retail clothes sales- quickly becoming a shift manager.

Myself, I parleyed my bartending experience into another bartending job. This time at the Olive Gardens Italian-style cuisine. I came in with the same kind of no-holds-barred, take no prisoner attitude that I had cultivated for myself over the previous few years.

Iíd show up for my shift on my Honda 600 CBR- decked out in my riding leathers, and I immediately became a novelty. A bevy of attractive waitresses worked at the restaurant, and, despite their better judgement, several of them became interested in my wild-child, untamable, man of mystery personae.

During one of my bull sessions at the bar, I had captured three of the waitresses with my tales of former derring-do. The subject turned to romance, and they began discussing their various flames and/or one night stands. In my usual brash manner, I announced that I wasnít interested in long term relationships - only sex. And that if one of them ever decided to come home with me one night, that they should know right up front that I wasnít going to call them the next morning, and that I wasnít going to set up house with them.

"Iím only in it for the sex," I proclaimed arrogantly.

Kirsten, a sloe-eyed dark-maned beauty, who came across as a good girl, was involved in a monogamous long term relationship with her boyfriend of eight months. I noticed that she was spending increasing amounts of time in my presence.

One afternoon she slyly let it drop that her boyfriend was out of town and that she didnít have anything to do that weekend. Without blinking I invited her over for dinner- which I would be cooking.

Dorinda and Jeff were going to be attending various parties that specific night. They were different parties - Jeff and Dorinda werenít spending much time together anymore and the tension was palpable. After work Jeff would come home and throw himself on the couch. One he had ensconced his posterior in the cushions it never left that position unless it was for a bathroom break or a beer. With joy stick firmly in hand, he would spend hours playing Nintendo.

Much of the time he was monosyllabic toward Dorinda, and Dorinda was feeling the lack of attention. To compensate she began to turn her focus to me. I was fine with her company, but her interest seemed a little too keen- and it made me especially uncomfortable to be receiving this much devotion when her husband was a few yards away on the couch.

To throw her off the scent, I told her of my planned conquest of Kirsten. She acted as if it were no big deal, and told me that if I Ďdid-ití on the couch that I had better use a towel.

"Thatís a brand new couch and if you donít use a towel, Iím going to kill you!" she said.

Max dropped by that evening for a few minutes, just after Kirsten and several of her friends arrived. Both he and Kirstenís friends had other places to be that evening, so their stay, I anticipated, would be short.

However, I noticed Max striking up a conversation with Kirsten,