This is the immediate sequel to
Mandy Inside Paradise.
In the afternoon after their first kinky sex in the movie theater where he works, Paul and Miranda have their first date in the luncheonette across the street. This chapter contains their conversations; sex is described but not depicted. This is taking place in August 1977.
CUNY is the City University of New York.
*******
Just after four o'clock, I walked out the front door of the Paradise Theater and onto the Grand Concourse. I was agitated because I didn't think I'd see her, but there was the girl with the orange shirt, leaning against a lamppost. She had her arms folded, and she looked at me with a slight smile. Her shirt was buttoned again and I assumed that her halter top had been re-tied.
Although I was both surprised and happy to see her, I knew enough to be cautious about expressing that to her.
She's obviously been coming to you; let that continue.
It was an overcast but warm day, and I looked around to give myself time to think.
She solved the issue for me by speaking first, "So, how has your day been going?"
By that point in my life, I knew how to improvise comebacks to girls. "The same old same old. Like today, I had an unruly female patron in there, and I had to spank her and then fuck her. Just part of my job."
She laughed at that, "Another day, another dollar. I bet you think I'm some kind of bimbo."
"Baby, I don't think you're a bimbo; I know it!"
She also laughed at that, but she put on a show of mock outrage too. "Hey, I've never done anything like that before, I swear."
"I bet you tell that to all the guys you meet."
She gave me a little poke in the chest and said with phony annoyance, "Oh, you're so mean!"
"I was wondering about something else. What was it you took before you came to the theater?" I was getting the feeling that she had come down somewhat from whatever drug she had taken before I had met her.
She looked a bit suspicious. I continued, "Don't worry, I don't have any relatives who are narcs."
"All right, I did have a couple of lines of coke. So you noticed that."
"You were pretty manic, so I couldn't help but notice. That's kind of expensive, isn't it?"
"This is only the second time I've ever had it." I wasn't sure I should believe that either. "I still have some left if you want to try it."
I had never experimented with that substance. I admit I was tempted, but I held off on the decision. Cocaine had been around New York for a long time, but in that period in the 1970's it was making a comeback among a younger generation who were oblivious to its dangers. All I said was, "I'll think about it."
She had a question for me, one that women almost always asked. "So, do you have a girlfriend out there somewhere?"
I knew enough to be evasive about that, "Yeah, but I've sort of gone sideways with her." There was also a true but unrelated situation I threw in to impress my theater cutie standing in front of me. "Plus, until last month, I had snagged a female professor at my school." Actually, she had snagged me when I went to her office to ask for an incomplete.
"Oh, I call bullshit on that."
"No, her name is Marilyn Janssen, and she's in the history department."
"I'm sure she exists but, whatever. Now, this other girl, supposedly the sideways one as you described her; that must be the Amoreena that you went running through the grass for hours with."
She is, as I thought before, just guessing about Donna.
"What I think is, well, you should be going out with me now instead."
I pretended to glance at the southbound traffic in the adjacent lanes so I could have another moment to think, but she interrupted me to sweeten the deal. "Come on, you already know that I'm a sure thing, and you haven't even had coffee with me yet."
That was a problem; she had a number of what are now called red flags, one of which was that she had just banged a complete stranger, namely me. And she had admitted to using hard drugs, and I could only guess the true number of times she had done that.
But she looked even better outdoors with her short dark-blonde hair, her orange shirt, black skirt, and white sneakers.
Go ahead, keep going, try her out, she wants more from you for some unfathomable reason. And she's so funny, in a weird sort of way, and let's face it, she's so juicy too.
I said, "So you have a name, I assume?"
"Right, I haven't said it yet. It's Miranda, as in the warning." I caught her reference. "Miranda Grossman, but most people call me Mandy."
"Well, please to meet you, Mandy. I'm Paul D'Amato."
"I bet you are pleased to meet me. Anyway, before our first date, we should have our first kiss."
"I thought we've already had our first date in there."
"Oh, that? That was just a little getting-to-know-you kind of chat."
Before I could respond to that, she stepped forward and put her hands on top of my shoulders. Then she kissed me warmly. When she stepped back a bit, I looked into her intense eyes, and I had to drop my glance for a moment. At that point, she was holding both of my hands.
Mandy already had her follow-up ready. "I'm kind of hungry; I haven't had lunch yet. Be a gentleman and invite me someplace."
That would give me another hour or so to figure her out, so I agreed to it. "There's Krum's over there, right across the street." It was a combination luncheonette and ice cream parlor.
"Oh, a big spender."
"This is The Bronx, you know."
"Of course, I was just busting your chops." There was a good-natured note in that. Then she immediately took my arm and said, "Let's go."
As we waited to cross the busy boulevard to the restaurant, I tried a little test of my own on her. As casually as I could, I said, "The Miranda case, I suppose you know the full name of it?"
She was casual too as she replied, "I sure do. It was Miranda v. Arizona." She smiled at me. "Hah, you thought you had me with that one, but you didn't!"
******
Inside Krum's, we couldn't get a booth, so we had a table in the middle of the floor. I felt a bit exposed sitting there, and I could imagine what people who noticed us were thinking,
That nice young couple, they're having a lunch date.
What they couldn't see were the marks on Mandy's behind where I had spanked her, and what I assumed were the remains of my semen in her cunt. If they only knew.
When we sat down, she briefly rubbed her ass and quietly said, "Man, you really whacked my butt."
"Well Mandy, you so richly deserved it. I did tell you to be quiet."
"And I bet you're glad I didn't get quiet."
I was perusing the menu instead of looking at her, although I already knew what I wanted. "It did make my job more complicated."
"Hah, make your job more complicated. You probably wish this happened more often."
I shrugged, "Maybe there'll be another bad girl in there tomorrow."
"Well, you better not get involved with her, that's for sure." She tested me again, "So, you're probably wondering what I'm doing with a skinny-ass guy like you."
At that point in my life, I understood that it was not necessary to know exactly why a girl was with me. She was there right now, at the table, even though she had done things backwards by coupling with me before going on a date. That's all I needed to know for the moment.
I threw her statement back at her, "And you're probably wondering what I'm doing with a chunky-ass girl like you."
That wasn't quite true about her behind, but women were sometimes sensitive about the size and shape of their rear ends. She frowned for a moment, "So you're thinking then that this skirt makes my ass look too big?"
I had heard so many versions of that before, but I only needed a single comeback for all of them. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
They were always surprised, but she had a new take on it, "Really? Then I must be the girl for you."
As we had our late lunch, she found out that I had just graduated from City College and I found out that she had just graduated from another branch of CUNY, Lehman College.
She said, "So we're exactly the same age and we went to the same university system. How did we find each other?"
"You found me by singing back there."
"And you found me by coming back and telling me to shut up."
"That was my job, remember?"
"So, anyway, this is the standard student question: what was your major?"
"Pre-med." She couldn't help but look impressed. I didn't want to keep that lie going. "I was just messing with you. It was history."
"Oh, you poor guy."
"And what kind of scholarly work did you do at Lehman?"
"English. So we're both going to be on the unemployment lines. Ah, what neighborhood are you from?"
"Williamsbridge, in the North Bronx." I added a detail to impress her. "The restaurant where they filmed
The Godfather,