"Yup. They were hypocrites," she said sadly. "What do you do?" "Nothing right now. I used to program computers, design software. When I lived here I did a lot of stuff: drove a cab, delivered newspapers, managed a tennis club . . . I ended up going to the university." Alison sipped coffee. "Let's get this over with," she said, "I'm forty-four. How old are you, Joe?" She noted his surprise with equanimity. "Fifty-three." "You see," she said. "You're one too: a younger--than--you--looker." "Alison," he said more firmly, "it has been nice to meet you, but I must be going. Much to do." "Goodbye, Joe. Thank you for talking to me." He didn't want to wait for change, so he left a large tip and walked up Ala Moana Boulevard, relieved, but with the odd feeling that he was walking toward her rather than away. At 4:00 that afternoon, the phone rang. "Hi, Joe, it's Alison. I was bad this morning; I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me." "What do you mean?" "You were busy and I bothered you. I've been lonely, I guess. I didn't realize. I don't meet people like you very often." That was flattering. Joe made a soothing noise. "How about dinner, Joe? Dutch treat?" He was surprised. "Uh, when?" "Tonight, of course. I want to be high in the air and look at the city lights. I've never been to the Top of the I. Come on, Joe . . . You can tell me stories about the ancient old days. I will wear a skirt. We'll be normal for a couple of hours." "A long stretch," Joe said, but then he felt bad. "Why not? O.K." They agreed to meet at 6:30. He ironed a pair of pants and an aloha shirt, mumbling to himself about what a pain in the ass it was, but by the time he stepped off the elevator he was feeling better; it was nice to be liked. Joe was overly punctual and used to waiting for women. He forgave them; it was a genetic condition associated with the willingness to walk slowly in front of onrushing traffic and also--somehow--with the inability to have money ready at checkout counters. Alison was waiting for him. "You're supposed to be late," he said. She smiled prettily. She was wearing a teal colored silk tunic over a chino skirt. Her hair was brushed back; a small opal swung from each ear; something glittered around her eyes. "You look terrific." "Thank you." They sat at a table with a view of the mountains. "I don't drink much," she said as he ordered a Glenlivet and water. "I do know about Glenlivet. I'm Scots and Swedish." "Single malt--wonderful stuff," he said. "I'll have a glass of Chardonnay. So, Joe, tell me about when you used to live here." "I was married and Kate, our daughter, was young. I've been married twice." Alison did not appear surprised. "Sally and I were happy to be out of Woodstock." "Woodstock, the Woodstock?"