Central Valley heat and colder beer

When it hits a hundred and three in July and the valley air feels like breathing through a wet towel, I still kind of love it. I'm forty-one, divorced five years, no kids, and I manage a warehouse off Kansas Avenue. My ex and I were better friends than spouses, which is a nice way of saying the spark died and we both knew it. I'm looking for a man who can handle a woman who says exactly what she thinks the moment she thinks it. Someone who'll sit on a patio with me under a misting fan and split a six-pack after a long shift. I don't do vague plans. If you want to see me, pick a day.