The girl (well, woman -- she was 33, after all) was chatty and took up the reins. Did Tiffany like UC-Berkeley? What was she studying? What was she going to do after graduation? "I always like to hear what young women are thinking about," she said. The woman pulled out a bottle of wine and some plastic cups and urged Tiffany to have a glass with her. Tiffany tried to suppress a grimace as she took a sip of the bitter red burgundy. But soon the bottle was empty and she found herself talking about her favorite subject: sex.

"OK, well, last week, I finally slept with this guy that I'd been going out with for about two months," said Tiffany. "I wasn't sure I was going to. But you know, it was time."

"Two months? How come you waited so long?"

"Is that long?" Tiffany asked, feeling once again that weird communication chasm with women who were not her age. "I guess I just wasn't sure before. But we'd had some beers that night, and suddenly I just thought, OK, I'll do it tonight. And I just got on the Pill, so you know."

"Huh," said the girl. "You, uh, didn't use condoms?"

"No," said Tiffany. "I mean, I know him. I've known him since junior year."

"Oh." The girl sat back and looked at Tiffany evenly. "I'm not sure I even know anyone who's on the Pill anymore."

"Well, it was awful," she said. "He came right away. I mean, like that. I couldn't really believe it. I think he just got worked up too fast."

"What's fast?" asked the girl.

"Like, the second he went inside me. Boom, that was it."

Despite the girl's own candidness, she seemed surprised at Tiffany's openness, even turning a little red. "Oh. Did he, um, make it up to you afterwards?"

"Well, there wasn't any afterwards," she said. "I made up some excuse and left."

The girl looked incredulous. "You left? Maybe you should have given him a second chance."

Karen had said the same thing. What was it with these older girls? Why were they so ... namby-pamby ... or desperate ... or something about sex? "Well, no," said Tiffany. "He fell asleep. Besides, it's no big deal. I'm sure I'll meet someone else."

"Has he called you?" the girl asked.

"Sure," Tiffany said, "lots of times. I told him we could be friends. Listen, it was just too lame." The girl kept questioning her, but Tiffany could see she wasn't getting the answers she wanted. "It was really no big deal," Tiffany said finally.

The girl said after a pause, "Yeah, I guess. I just can't remember a time that I could feel that cavalier about sex. Maybe when I was younger, but not now." She sighed.

After that, the two of them fell asleep. As the plane touched down in Atlanta, they exchanged pleasantries, but not phone numbers or even e-mail addresses. Well, I may apologize too much and want people to like me, Tiffany thought sadly as she reapplied her Twig MAC lipstick, but at least I don't stress out about sex like these post-25-year-olds. Even if she felt a little frivolous in her company, Tiffany had liked this smart and slightly neurotic girl. It was a shame they didn't have more in common, she thought, as she carefully tucked her copy of Mademoiselle into her bag.
SALON | Feb. 25, 1998

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