Miss: A thunderstorm closes the pool

By the time you get across town to the Community College, the air is hot and sticky. At least you're dressed for the weather. Your own personal weather is feeling just the same, and after the disappointment with the nice young men at the auto shop, well, you're hoping for better here.

You've just made a slow circuit of the pool area, looking to see if there's anyone you know, when you hear a peal of thunder echoing through the sky. The lifeguards blow their whistles and close the pool, sending all those nice young men in their trunks back to the men's locker room.

Where you're not allowed.

You sigh and walk back to your car, closing the door just as the first heavy drops of rain start pelting down. Does the Lord have a message for you that you're just looking for love in the wrong places while your honeybear is away?

You sit in your car with the seat tilted back, waiting for the storm to pass. The raindrops beat down on the metal roof, God's drumroll. The sticky heat eases with the rain, cooling. You get out your phone and key in a message to your husband. LV U HONEYBEAR BE SAFE OUT THERE. At length the rain slackens and the storm passes, leaving the world washed clean and leaving you still hot and wanting.

"Oh, my angels," you say. "Guide me."

But your angels have no wisdom for you today, so you follow your whim to the nail studio to get your toes done up. With your husband coming home in a few days, you'll feel good shining yourself up for him. There's a new young lady working in the salon. It's been a slow day, and only the two of you there, so you start to talk. Her man's a month away from finishing his tour of duty, your man is on the road pointed home, and you're both eager for the reunions.

Your phone gives a doorbell chime. Brian has messaged you back. HUNGRY FOR YOUR PIE.

"Is everything all right, hon?" the stylist asks.

"Just my man making me want him while I can't do anything about it," you say.

"Men," she says. "Mine too, sometimes he's the very devil." She laughs. "Women aren't any better."

"Oh, do tell," you say.

The stylist says, "Well, my friend Lorelei, she swore off men, but her girlfriends are just as much trouble. I think she just sniffs out trouble either way. More than once I've seen her make a beeline to a gal I knew was trouble just looking at her. I'm begging her inside, no Lorelei, not that girl, THAT girl over there, she's the one."

"Where does she go to find girls?" you ask. Girls seem to find you, but you're not sure where you'd go in town if you were Lady Seeking Like.

The stylist shakes her head. "Where else, the Crater. Lorelei keeps trying to pick up college girls, and it's drama city. I'm her bar buddy, but I can't seem to keep her out of trouble." She smiles. "The gals seem to like me too."

"You ever tempted?" you ask.

"With my man away?" she says. You share a knowing look and a smile.