I sat at the bar, just listening to the soft jazz playing in the background. My date, Mary, a hot blonde in her 40s was late. Ten, twenty and eventually forty minutes went by. There was no sign of her. I stared at my second class of Coke, ready to  get up to leave when I heard, "Hey, sorry I'm late!" said a soft, bubbly voice, the one I had become used to hearing on the phone. I sat there, a little lost for words. Mary wa...