מכאן ומשם ומכל העולמות

I was with Mr. Wenger, drinking beer in a local watering hole.  It was early by Tel Aviv standards - not even 8pm - and the joint was almost deserted. We sat at the bar, sipping Heffe Weise, our eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting.  The bartender put out some nuts; Arik Einstein sang in the background.

"So bring me up to speed" I said.   "How many women are there in the picture?"

"Three at the moment, and between them they're keeping me quite occupied."

"Did you meet them all of them on these dating sites of yours?"

"Of course.  Well, I never let my profiles lapse whilst I was seeing 'S', so the moment I broke up with her I could log right back in."

Mr. Wenger and I had an interesting relationship, having met on one of these very dating sites, a couple of years back. In fact, we'd 'dated' a few times.  Anyway, he was cosmopolitan and intellectual, real sapiosexual, but still... 

I'd ummmd and aaahd before, to my relief, after a few meetings, he'd done me a favor and brought the subject up first. "I like a lot of things about you" he'd said, sitting in my salon, one sticky, sultry Tel Aviv summer night "You're smart, open-minded, worldly.  I like listening to you express ideas..."

"But?"

"But I don't think we're going to make it as a couple. However, I do think we could be quite good friends." 

I looked at him, lounging in my purple designer armchair, staring at me seriously."

"Jane Austen said friendship is the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.  Can I fix you another gin and tonic?"

Time had passed and, indeed, we had become good friends.  A few months later, Mr Wenger told me that he'd met an interesting woman and that his feelings had surprised him somewhat.

"I think I'm falling in love with her" he confessed.

I watched, fascinated, as he fell head over heels.  Unfortunately, the path of true love did not run smoothly for the two of them (though this story is for another day).  The bottom line?  After just over a year, they had parted company.   Consequently, Mr Wenger was now back on the dating market.

"Do you miss her?"

"Yes.  She dropped some of my things a while ago.  She stood close to me - I could smell her hair. A part of me wanted to kiss her.  But..."

"But?"

"It can't be fixed.  She looked back at me, as she was walking out my door and said, 'Are you happy to have your freedom back?'

"What did you reply?"

"I told her the truth - that I was."

"Don't you have any regrets?  It might have been complicated, but it was the real thing.  You loved her.  Now you're having sex with three different women, which, admittedly, sounds like a lot of fun, but I know you don't feel that much for any of them.  'S' came with her baggage but, still, it was love.  Real love."

Mr Wenger looked at me, deadly serious.

"What's love got to do with it?