I remember one day in 1995 picking up the newspaper and getting accosted by mug shots of British actor Hugh Grant and of a somewhat masculine-looking African-American woman identified as “sex worker Divine Brown.” The two were reportedly arrested while Grant’s car was parked on a dark road off Sunset Boulevard.
I am a happy wife and a proud mom of two wonderful children. We are living abroad. My first child is from a fling prior to my marriage. My husband and his family love her and adore her more than their own. She was seven when I got married, and she now uses the name of my husband.
I am a 33-year-old single man, not bad-looking, kinda smart, funny, well-educated and with a steady, high-paying job. Modesty aside, I believe I am a good catch for any girl.
My column for this Sunday is giving way to a true story written by my friend Telly Bernardo, a retired advertising executive.
I am 42 years old and married to my second wife for eight years. We have a 7-year-old child. I met her through a chat site, and ours was a whirlwind romance. She came into my life when my father died and somehow filled that empty space. But things started to unravel when we lived together. Close friends like our late ninang secretly did not approve of our marriage because she foresaw my wife as the “cockeyed” type. Even the priest who married us said she was not a good fit because of her “answers” during the interview portion.
I am 26 years old, seven years into a relationship with a female who is three years older than I. I am taking up my MBA overseas in a topnotch business school, while she is working as HR manager in a different city. She’s an extrovert while I am not. We met through the Internet and saw each other only after four years of being phone-pals. We lived together for a fabulous three-year period, after which I moved overseas for my MBA.
Nine years ago, my wife died of cancer. I was 51. During the nine-year period that I was a widower, 13 women came into my life and disappeared one by one. During the same period, my eldest son entered the seminary. In April this year, he was ordained.
I am a 54-year-old working wife with two daughters, ages 21 and 14. My husband is an engineer who travels during the week but never on weekends. Lately, however, his work has included weekends; he says the other parties involved are only available then.
I’ve had this boyfriend of three years whom my parents don’t approve of. His family is poor, as his parents don’t have a regular source of income. He himself doesn’t have a stable job.
In the more sedate 1960s, I was working for a market research firm when a fresh convent-school graduate joined the firm and was assigned to be my assistant. I was to oversee field work, and she had to come with me. We’d be out in the field most days and, mostly, I’d give her a ride home.
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