TWENTY TWO
"22 is my lucky number," she revealed. "I was born in 1966. If you add those numbers together (1+9+6+6) you get 22. My mother was born in 1944. So, this year she turned 55 and I turned 33. If you subtract those years from one another, it's 22. Next time that will happen with the double numbers and all, I'll be 66 and she'll be 88. And it will be the year 2032- which both begins and ends with 2. So, that's why I changed my name. It's all about numerology. I know it sounds strange, but it really works...."
My head was spinning from all the numbers. And I couldn't help but laugh. In fact, I laughed so hard that my eyes watered. I've criticized my friends for believing in that hocus-pocus zodiac stuff before. But this numerology crap made astrology look like a science. Her name was Robin, recently changed to Robin West. Somehow that name equals 22 in numerology. She was a pretty, blonde, femme Pisces with long straight hair down to her waist. Her Nordic features seemed almost hand-carved. I asked the bartender to get her another MGD Light. As Robin proceeded to tell me her life story, I realized we were very similar people. She had dropped everything 5 months ago and moved to San Diego. Because it was so difficult to find housing here, she went back home, bought a friends RV and she's been living in it all that time. I could tell she was the kind of girl who rolled with the punches. She was a maverick, a go-getter. She wasn't the kind of girl who asked "Can I do this? ", but more likely the type to ask "How can I do this?" Robin had found a job as the media director for a large local event called "Street Scene"- an event that came under fire for liquor code violations. It was Robin's job to accommodate the media and to respond to their allegations about these violations. When I first saw her across the room tonight, we made eye contact briefly. Then she just smiled nervously and quickly averted her eyes. But she was only shy until I walked over and spoke to her. I guess that was her cue. This woman talked up a storm- all the while smiling and touching my arm or my shoulder. She was open, friendly, insightful, and a little off-beat. And it was refreshing to talk to another Midwesterner.
Now, after a couple of beers, I could tell that Robin wanted to dance. She swayed her hips from side to side and kept commenting on the music. They were playing slow songs now, here at the country-western bar in Hillcrest. Robin was dressed for this place, standing there in a low-cut black tank top, black jeans and western boots. I have to admit that I was pretty intimidated with the structured formality of what was taking place on the dance floor. Everyone was waltzing and twirling and 2-stepping around counter-clockwise- boys with boys and girls with girls. It was like the whole thing had been choreographed for a movie entitled "Fred Astaire meets John Wayne: the love story".
"Aren't slow dances just an excuse to feel-up your dance partner?" I asked. Robin stepped back, faking indignance. I didn't think it was that rude. (But maybe this explains why I rarely get a second date.) If she had asked, I would have danced with her - and kept my hands to myself. (Honestly!) Anyhow, I was thankful that she hadn't asked.
"Guess I should get going here," I lamented. All the friends I came out with had left a good half hour ago. I had been so engaged in conversation with Robin that I hardly paid attention when they waived goodbye on the way out. But seeing as I was just back from the Central time zone myself, my energy was beginning to wear thin at this hour.
"Can I walk you to your car?" Robin didn't wait for an answer. She just slammed the rest of her beer and followed me out.
I hate those awkward moments when you don't know what to do with your hands. Robin had strategically placed herself between me and my car door there in the dark covered parking lot. Looked like it was going to be a standoff. And it was starting to get cool out- mid sixties or so. Before I had a chance to consider my next move, she reached out, grabbed my head with both hands and gave me a long deep kiss. Tingles ran down my spine as she began to stroke the underside of my tongue with hers. She pressed her little breasts against mine and kissed me with the urgency of a woman in heat. I could feel her heart beating rapidly.
A few moments passed- maybe it was hours (who knows?). In any event, I'd had a chance to think a bit. A parking garage was not the right place for this. I pulled back, "Um...".
"Don't talk!" she ordered, sternly enough that I didn't dare disobey. "Is this one your car key?" Robin took the keys from my hand and opened the driver's side door. She hit the automatic locks, slammed that door and smiled mischievously as she opened the rear door pulling me in with her to the cold back seat. I don't recall saying anything further to this woman- at least nothing intelligible. Fully clothed, we began to fog up those windows like I haven't done since high school. She was soft and very warm. I could feel the wetness all the way through her jeans and I just wanted them off. Suddenly there were bright lights shining through the windows- VERY bright! I froze-- panicked. These lights were familiar. OH SHIT! Just then we heard a knock on the window. Leave it to the cops to spoil the party. No ticket- just a warning "for our own safety". And can you guess the last two numbers on the cop's badge?
On the plane home, I was reading this book of lesbian short fiction. And I thought "You know, I could write like that". But I worried that I didn't have the imagination to make it sound real. All the stuff in italics above is made up. This letter was a test to see if I can write believable fiction. So whaddaya think? Did you buy the story? All the non-italic stuff is true. And this Robin is too much like me to have anything more than a platonic friendship thing going. (Heck I would NEVER date me !) I left the bar alone that night. However, I did resolve to take line-dancing lessons at the next possible opportunity. Looked like fun! Maybe I'll see Robin there. She emailed me today. I'd like to hook up with her again sometime- she's a hoot!!
 |
|
This page is maintained
