Home > Uncategorized > Confessions of a Transition Man – Part Three

Confessions of a Transition Man – Part Three

The train rolled into the station in Florence, and I was concerned that I might not hear any more tales of the Transition Man.  I proposed to Kevin Knight that we meet for a drink and conversation later that evening.  He had no other commitments, he said, so we agreed to meet at the lobby bar in his hotel, the Palazzo Tolmei.

After taking time in the afternoon to check into my hotel suite, unpack, shower, and nap, I prepared to resume pursuit of Kevin Knight’s confessions about life as a Transition Man.  I entered the Palazzo Tolmei at the agreed time.  The lobby is like a palace, and the sense that everything that surrounds you is the best available fills the environment.  I learned from the gorgeous hostess that Mr. Knight had not yet arrived.  I chose a table with a small sofa facing it on one side and an easy-chair on the other side.  Most of the tables were occupied by elegant people, the women all in stunning outfits.

I barely had time to look around me when I saw Kevin enter and look for me.  I raised my arm, he saw me and came straight over.  I asked him to sit on my side of the table, sharing the sofa, so he could tell me of his confessions in confidence.  The waiter took our order – a Bloody Mary for me, a Canadian Club with Soda for him.  We made small talk until our drinks were delivered to the table.  We drank to our mutual good health and settled back for a good conversation.

Kevin Knight seemed lost for a moment in sweet memories, then he blinked and said he would tell me of his first experience as a transition man before he knew that such a creature existed.  He was new in the social whirl of the times, and fearful about how a man in his fifties could socialize in a community that was several decades ahead of him in contemporary society.  He had been faithful and almost celibate in his marriage of cold decades, and was almost frightened to return to intimacy with a new woman.

Having turned to the Internet for company, he spent lonely evenings in his high-rise apartment surfing the Web for nothing in particular.  Suddenly his ICQ called his attention to a new message.  It was from a woman on a farm near Kansas City.  She was 38 years old and dealing with a son of 17, a daughter of 15, and a 42-year-old husband who had become a problem drinker.  She claimed that her husband gave more respect and affection to his tractor than to her, and spent more time with his pickup truck than the family.  She was starving for attention and affection.

This lady had been raped when she was younger, so was naturally very cautious with men.  At first, for each of us to be safe, we met only in public places.  The first time was in a corner of the parking lot for a small shopping center.  It went well.  She was surprisingly pretty, with red hair, green eyes, and creamy white skin.  She turned out to be  intelligent, and it was unfortunate circumstances that led her to a farm life when she should have been in business.

Kevin and the woman began to meet occasionally, in a small inn.  The first time, Kevin was careful and gentle and their lovemaking session was a great success.  The woman’s appetite enabled her to shed any inhibitions, and she became a wonderful lover.  Afterward, Kevin was sitting on the edge of the bed when the woman rested her face on his back and wept copiously, with tears trickling down his back.  When he asked what was wrong she sobbed that she had given up the hope that such feelings, pleasure, and satisfaction would ever come to her.

The transition for her was very good.  She enrolled in an online course in marketing, obtained a good job with a major automotive company, left her husband and found a charming co-worker who treated her respectfully and took her for wonderful, loving weekends at his country house, often with her children included.

A few months after Kevin had stopped seeing the woman she sent him an e-mail, thanking him for helping her to find liberation and happiness and make the transition into the life she was meant to live.  Kevin never had contact with her again.

Kevin Knight had more confessions to make, and I was happy to listen to his varied experiences.

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