Sometimes one forgets how simple it can be. Sometimes it just happens. Two people share a moment that becomes something more. No one ends up tied up or tied down. There are no handcuffs. No vibrating toys get pulled out of a drawer or a suitcase. There is no leather or lace, well, maybe a little lace. There are no drugs and no one has to get drunk enough to let down their inhibitions. Sometimes it still happens like it used to with no texts, sexts or X-rated digital pictures. It may not make for as good a story but it makes for a lot sweeter memory.
His flight arrived in San Francisco late. He had gotten the upgrade though and the red wine in first class is acceptable. There was no meal service but he got the warm mixed nuts and a bag of trail mix The shuttle bus from the airport was supposed to run every 35 minutes but it was not unusual to wait an hour. He had a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. His boss had not sent him a request that he needed to get to right away and there was a short little sandy haired brunette in jeans and a fancy blouse waiting beside him so he even had something to look at.
She had been waiting when he had gotten to the curb marked hotel shuttles and she stood leaning against a rail. He liked the way her silky shirt billowed over large full breasts and he liked the way her jeans wrapped tightly around an ass that was neither too broad nor too narrow. He liked how it curved gently above her thighs.
He waited patiently and lit another cigarette.
"Can I mooch one of those off of you?" The woman said to him. He had actually stopped staring at her and was surprised to turn and see that it was she that wanted the cigarette.
He didn't do anything as cheesy as light it before handing it to her but after extending the pack with three buts pushed out for easy withdrawal he stepped towards her and held the lit lighter out to her. The gesture failed in the Northern California breeze and he handed the lighter over to her.
"Thanks. I'm hoping it makes the buss show up," she said.
"It always works like that," he replied. He smiled his I'm not trying to sell you anything smile he used when he was trying to sell something to someone. She smiled back.
"They said 35 minutes. It's been almost an hour."
They spent a few minutes discussing the Doubletree vs. the Hilton and both expressed a preference for the former.
"The Embassy Suites is nice. The restaurant is right on the water."
"That sounds nice but I don't like the beds. You don't get a cookie either."
They smiled the road warrior smile everyone smiles over the chocolate chip cookie at the Doubletree.
The buss arrived. She moved to the back to hand her bag to the driver. He boarded and carried his carry-on on. They resumed the silence of the frequent traveller. He enjoyed talking to her but anything at this point would sound like a line so he let her sit in the front row and gave her back her privacy. He texted away in the back row keeping up with the family and teasing his friends about the football game over the weekend.
Having kept his own bag he was first in the line to check-in. A broad woman in a cheap suit stood behind him complaining there was only one person at the counter. The young woman in jeans was yet even further back.
He gave her a smile when he turned for the elevators and felt badly the minute he did. He knew a woman alone at a hotel was going to get hit on and he didn't want to be that guy. He had been doing this a while. He was over it.
He called home from the room, wished his son well on his test in the morning and told his wife he loved her. She replied with goodnight. She no longer said she loved him, not to him anyway. They were well past that. The boy left for college in ten months and he suspected she would leave shortly there after. It wasn't her fault; it just was what it was. Twenty-two years was a long time. She was tired of the emotional rollercoaster that came with being his wife. He was tired of the emotional isolation that came with being her husband. He thought about room service but it was just after five. Four happy-hour beers and a cheeseburger would mean a good nights sleep and an early start. He took his suit out of the bag and hung it up so the wrinkles would fall out of it and went downstairs to the restaurant and bar.
She felt an instant overwhelming relief when the driver dropped her at departures that morning. It had been a long weekend. Weekends before her trips were always a challenge. Robert - Bobby, simply didn't understand.
"You know how much I make, right?" She had come home Friday after a week at home and had to tell him she was leaving Monday morning
"Yeah," he said.
"It pays for your truck."
"I can pay for the truck."
"Yeah but not the truck and house." His payment on the oversized lifted Ram HD with 35's on 18" rims was only $18 a month less than the mortgage on the little three bedroom they had picked up in St. Paul.
"We would make do," he said. He didn't understand.
She couldn't help but think as she rode the elevator up to the sixth floor that the man in the sport coat and jeans would understand. She hadn't done anything on her trips but at times Bobby made it hard. She called her mom from the room to check on her boys and her husband to apologize. He was in a bar. She told him she couldn't hear what he was saying and disconnected.
It was really just a matter of time.
She pulled her workout clothes out of the suitcase and sat on the edge of the bed to take off her boots. She didn't feel like getting on the treadmill. She felt like a margarita. She zipped her ankle high boot back up and gathered her purse and phone and room key and then checked a second time to make sure she had her purse and phone and room key before heading back to the elevator.
She thought about bobby sitting at the Well ordering bottles rather than drafts so that Rhonda had to turn around and bend over. Rhonda thought he was an ass. She was safe as long as he was just after the bartender.
The hotel bar was busier than she expected. A row of men lined the bar itself. Several tables had little groups gathered around them. Two women, older than she was, sat off by themselves alone at tables pretending to work on their laptops as they drank their glass of wine and waited on their salad. She typically would have joined them. It was what you did. Sitting at your laptop reduced the number of creepers that offered to buy you a $5 glass of wine.
She watched the men turn and look as she stepped towards the bar. She had two choices, one on either side of the broad shoulders in a blue sport coat that had lent her a cigarette at the airport. She stepped up to the stool to his right. Sitting at the end of the bar would mean she only had someone on one side of her. It's the type of thing she had learned over the last nine months and something she now did without thinking. She stood as she ordered still contemplating a move to a table.
"Here. Do you want that chair, I can move over," said the smoking man. He nudged slightly to his left. He was a large man, as large as bobby but taller so he was shaped differently. He had an angry intense look that seemed to evaporate when he spoke to her. He looked almost boyish when he smiled. "I can move over a seat," he went on.
"No, stay," she said. She even put her hand on his shoulder. It wasn't planned. It was a horrible breach of protocol. She yanked her hand back.
"I can still move over a little for you."
"How wide do you think I am?" she teased him. She wasn't sure what was wrong with her.
"Occasionally in life you run into a question with no real answer," he said. He was drinking a beer. It looked good. She had learned to drink wine but down deep, she was just a beer kind of girl.
"That's a pretty good answer," she said back. He appeared to be reading something on his phone. Settled into her stool, he left her alone, uninterested. He was older, probably married with big kids. She imagined the big house and nice cars and a life without a deep freeze filled with venison in the garage. It was her own fault. She'd gotten drunk and knocked up and ten years later it does you no good to look back on what you missed out on, it was best to look forward, to have a goal and a plan to reach it. She ordered a beer and asked for a menu.
She was half way through her second beer when her phone blew up. First it was a string of normal text messages and then it was the foghorn sound she had assigned Bobby.
She and Rhonda had gone to high school together. Rhonda was more friend then bartender.
"Don't hate me."
"I had to 86 Bobby tonight."
"I don't give a shit. I put up with it because you and I are friends but he grabbed Christie tonight. First her ass then her boob. "
"I had no choice really. Call me if you get a chance."
