of those independent souls
content to roam about alone I assure you that isn’t the case - far from it.
The thought actually occurred to me to ask Melanie to go with me, and then I
laughed. Somehow this secret seemed too abnormal, too humiliating to share
with anyone. I’d have to face it alone. No one could possibly understand how
isolated from the rest of the population I felt, yet desperation to have my
needs fulfilled overcame my shyness and I was determined to press forward with
this no matter what the consequences. Perhaps it was a last ditch effort to
find myself, to finally identify what –if anything- would quench the sensual
side of me. But whatever it was my gut told me I’d find it at this Meet and
Greet.
*-*-*-*-*
I can’t do it.
I decided, and readjusted my grip at ten and two on the
steering wheel, gnashing my brand new fingernails into the sun hardened
leather. Honestly I don’t know what I was thinking. This was a clear
byproduct of too much cheap wine, chocolate ice cream and lack of physical
contact. To think that I could ever bring myself to engage in something like
this was a ridiculous concept. I was only waiting for my inner voice to pipe
in, chiding me to put a halt to this insane behavior immediately. She always
seems to rear her ugly head when I’m about to make a terrible decision, and no
matter how hard I try I can’t get her to just shut up. Chickening out once
again? Never going to know unless you go in. My subconscious is a total
bitch. Couple that with a healthy dose of anxiety and the desperate
need to do something completely out of character and you have my usual recipe
for disaster. Against my better judgment, I pulled the handle hard on the car
door and thrust my feet out.
I’m way past the point of questioning my choice of attire; I
spent three hours going through my entire closet before settling on a simple
black dress. Never once did I consider anything with a heel, but that’s
probably because I knew I’d want a solid foot if I chose to flee at the last
minute. Staring at the front door I’m still floored they’re meeting at the
local bar. I’d been in here many times for lunch with my friends from the
office, and the fear of running into one of my coworkers is really what
frightened me. As it happened, a single stranger stood in the bar waiting area
to greet and meet me.
She was a cute girl; long straight platinum blonde hair with
streaks of bright crimson dyed into the left side. She waved me over with a
forced smile, as if she wasn’t practiced as a greeter. “Hello, I’m Molly.
I’ll be walking you through the rules and shit.”
“Uhh…” I hesitated not because I was almost positive that
crimson, purple and teal as hair colors went out of style in the 90’s, but
because she was much too young to teach me about much of anything, much less
sex.
“It’s okay,” she said in her best babysitter’s voice. “The
others won’t be here for at least an hour. Get you a drink?”
“Yeah… I don’t know. Maybe this was…” Of course I was
going to say, “One big, huge, mammoth mistake,” but she cut me off.
“Relax. It’s just you and me. Have a name?”
“Stella.” It wasn’t my name, but then again I doubted hers
was Molly either.
“Right. Two Manhattans please,” she said to the waitress.
Turning her attention back to me, she smiled a weak but somewhat reassuring
smile, “Relax, just got a little housekeeping to do before everyone shows up.”
She pulled the strap on the oversized bag that hung on the back of her chair.
The bag was filled with what looked like school books, and before I could ask
she produced a thick black two-inch binder and opened it on the small table between
us.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I blurt, already feeling my
fleeing instinct taking hold. “I didn’t expect to be the only one here. I
think I’m going to be on display as a
content to roam about alone I assure you that isn’t the case - far from it.
The thought actually occurred to me to ask Melanie to go with me, and then I
laughed. Somehow this secret seemed too abnormal, too humiliating to share
with anyone. I’d have to face it alone. No one could possibly understand how
isolated from the rest of the population I felt, yet desperation to have my
needs fulfilled overcame my shyness and I was determined to press forward with
this no matter what the consequences. Perhaps it was a last ditch effort to
find myself, to finally identify what –if anything- would quench the sensual
side of me. But whatever it was my gut told me I’d find it at this Meet and
Greet.
*-*-*-*-*
I can’t do it.
I decided, and readjusted my grip at ten and two on the
steering wheel, gnashing my brand new fingernails into the sun hardened
leather. Honestly I don’t know what I was thinking. This was a clear
byproduct of too much cheap wine, chocolate ice cream and lack of physical
contact. To think that I could ever bring myself to engage in something like
this was a ridiculous concept. I was only waiting for my inner voice to pipe
in, chiding me to put a halt to this insane behavior immediately. She always
seems to rear her ugly head when I’m about to make a terrible decision, and no
matter how hard I try I can’t get her to just shut up. Chickening out once
again? Never going to know unless you go in. My subconscious is a total
bitch. Couple that with a healthy dose of anxiety and the desperate
need to do something completely out of character and you have my usual recipe
for disaster. Against my better judgment, I pulled the handle hard on the car
door and thrust my feet out.
I’m way past the point of questioning my choice of attire; I
spent three hours going through my entire closet before settling on a simple
black dress. Never once did I consider anything with a heel, but that’s
probably because I knew I’d want a solid foot if I chose to flee at the last
minute. Staring at the front door I’m still floored they’re meeting at the
local bar. I’d been in here many times for lunch with my friends from the
office, and the fear of running into one of my coworkers is really what
frightened me. As it happened, a single stranger stood in the bar waiting area
to greet and meet me.
She was a cute girl; long straight platinum blonde hair with
streaks of bright crimson dyed into the left side. She waved me over with a
forced smile, as if she wasn’t practiced as a greeter. “Hello, I’m Molly.
I’ll be walking you through the rules and shit.”
“Uhh…” I hesitated not because I was almost positive that
crimson, purple and teal as hair colors went out of style in the 90’s, but
because she was much too young to teach me about much of anything, much less
sex.
“It’s okay,” she said in her best babysitter’s voice. “The
others won’t be here for at least an hour. Get you a drink?”
“Yeah… I don’t know. Maybe this was…” Of course I was
going to say, “One big, huge, mammoth mistake,” but she cut me off.
“Relax. It’s just you and me. Have a name?”
“Stella.” It wasn’t my name, but then again I doubted hers
was Molly either.
“Right. Two Manhattans please,” she said to the waitress.
Turning her attention back to me, she smiled a weak but somewhat reassuring
smile, “Relax, just got a little housekeeping to do before everyone shows up.”
She pulled the strap on the oversized bag that hung on the back of her chair.
The bag was filled with what looked like school books, and before I could ask
she produced a thick black two-inch binder and opened it on the small table between
us.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I blurt, already feeling my
fleeing instinct taking hold. “I didn’t expect to be the only one here. I
think I’m going to be on display as a
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