After twenty-six years, my husband just dumped me for the Neighborhood Watch captain, a woman the size of a Winnebago. Oh, and then he squanders all of our savings and investments. Normally, I would handle this with a week at a spa I can't afford, but the Save Angie Crisis Intervention Team (aka my best friends) insists that instead I need one night of hot, wanton, emotionally uncomplicated sex. A one-night stand. Who knew?
If only moving on were so simple. Then I wouldn't suddenly be this close to becoming Sacramento's latest scandal, ruining my son's career, and wetting my pants in this rented GI Joe costume I'm wearing (thereby forfeiting my deposit).
My friends got me into this, and they've gotta get me out. It's never too late, ladies . . .