“Angelina!” Cap came around the end of the bar and hugged me. I wondered at his fierce affection as I was forced into his folds of flab, then as he released me, I realized he had been drinking, and for some reason had need to show me off. I suppressed the comical urge to look to see if the impression my bony body had made in his great stomach had stayed—a permanent outline of Angelina pressed in flesh.

He was dressed nicely, in a clean flannel shirt and jeans, and he smelled good. He was happy, deep within his element.

“What can I get you to drink? This is a private club; we don’t worry about IDs here.”

“Oh, I don’t drink. Just tea. Please.”

While I waited, I looked around and noticed a singular lack of women. There were several present whom I assumed were wives; most were playing cards with husbands or partners at card tables set up in the far corner. A couple of women were engaged in sofa conversation with their dates, and there were two women deep in animated discussion at the wall bar, but the rest were men. An astonishing assortment of men.

I swallowed.

Cap brought my tea. “Gee, I’m glad you came,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you would. Next thing, we’ll have to make you a member. We need some ladies to brighten the place up a bit. Add a little color.” I smiled at him. He was a delightful person. “You have a good time now, you hear? I’m stuck behind the bar tonight, or I’d meetcha to some folks. I know you go to work at midnight, but maybe you could stop back by and have some coffee with me when you get off your shift?”

I told him I would, took my tea, and went off to explore this very interesting male territory.

As I shouldered my way through the passages, my nose attuned to the male odor, I listened to snatches of conversation, hearing pauses in the conversation as I passed. I became aware of what people were drink­ing. After a few leading remarks by some of the men, I realized that my criteria for companionship this night was a man who didn’t drink. A man who didn’t pollute his body. I graciously declined offers of all kinds as I roamed, attentive, searching.

As I slowly walked around, looking, listening, inviting myself in and then out again, introducing myself as necessary, I began to settle down. I felt calm, I felt comforted. I felt a presence again, a guiding, loving presence that warmed me. It was a familiar feeling, one that had been missing from my cold, lonely life for too long, and it felt marvelous. I continued to wander through the Yacht Club, enjoy­ing the atmosphere, feeling confident and relaxed.