Martha is what you might call a "culture vulture." When she saw "Fantasia" for the first time as an 8-year-old, she became a devotee of classical music. She started studying the violin and continued for nine years. She also studied the piano and was "a serious lyric soprano."

Something else you need to know about Martha: She's had a self-proclaimed "adventurous past." She's been married once and has had numerous affairs with a United Nations of gentlemen.

Yet, her two passions — music and passion — never seemed to come together. There was never a musician tucked among her butchers, bakers and candlestick makers.

"In fact, of all the men I've dated, only one loved classical music."

His name was Grange, and Martha says he was very good-looking. On one of their first dates, he took her to a beautiful restaurant. The food was delicious, the drink even better. Grange had several too many.

He was planning an after-dinner seduction back at his house, but when they got there, he fell asleep on the living room couch.

"For some strange reason that I can't remember, instead of calling a cab I, too, fell asleep, fully clothed, on the easy chair in the living room after he dropped off. Maybe I was a little tipsy myself."

Grange woke up the next morning stone-cold sober. He was well rested and raring to go. He expected the morning to pick up where the evening had left off. He woke Martha as the sun was streaming through the window and the rooster was crowing.

"But I was completely out of the mood. No longer did the setting or the circumstances seem romantic. I was wide awake, my hair was a mess, my mascara was smeared, my dress was wrinkled and all I wanted to do was go home."

When Grange made his move — we might call it seduction interruptus — she told him he'd had his chance last night and he blew it. It was too late. The moment had passed.

"In lovemaking, as in humor," says Martha, "timing is of the essence."

Martha says Grange was less than happy with the way the morning turned out. When she told him she wasn't interested in having sex with him and just wanted to leave, he didn't offer to drive her home. She figured she'd call a cab and asked him for his exact address.

"He refused to give it to me! What was he thinking? That he'd keep me captive 'til I agreed to make love?"

Ever resourceful, Martha went to the bathroom and found his address on a pill bottle and called a cab.

"He never called me again, and I never saw him again. It's too bad the evening turned out the way it did because I had finally met a man with whom I had something important in common. And he had a vast collection of classical records. Grange had been dealt a good hand, but he didn't know how to play his cards wisely."

How many times have you let the same dog bite you?

Got a problem? Send it, along with your questions and rants, to cheryllavinrapp@gmail.com. And check out my e-books, "Dear Cheryl: Advice from Tales from the Front" and "I'll Call You. Not."

Photo credit: at Pixabay