The attractive blond looked very young. The waitress had automatically asked for ID when the adult beverage order was placed. Always cautious as she examined the girl's driver's license, the waitress had asked for a second form of photo ID which the young woman produced. It appeared to be either a student ID card or possibly an employee identification badge. After careful scrutiny of both identifying documents the bar maid seemed satisfied and went to retrieve the young woman's order. The young girl looked in his direction, fixing his gaze with her own and smiled.
It was still early in this popular San Diego night spot; she was alone, but would soon have company whether she wanted it or not. They were both in a nicer than average Southern California club known to be a prime pickup venue. Successful young metro males vied with the occasional young Marine officer for female attention. He fell into that second category. He was a handsome young Lieutenant only recently returned from Iraq.
He had himself on more than one occasion asked a young lady to prove that she was at least eighteen---a statutory rape charge would do little to enhance his military career. This attractive young woman had to be at least twenty-one to order alcohol in California. At twenty-five the young officer had no interest in woman under that age. The maturity brought on by combat had lessened his interest in the giggly young high school girls looking for---whatever it was they were looking for. Certainly he wanted to get laid; that went without question.
With his surfer good looks, lean, muscular young body and easy manner he was usually successful—but always picky. He was naturally athletic and had been involved in numerous sports throughout high school and college. He hoped to complete his Masters degree in night school in the next year. He would make Captain by then. With the specter of another tour of duty in Iraq he would quite probably request release from active duty a year later.
He loved the Corps and was proud that he had been bloodied in that God forsaken country---but did not wish to visit it again. He had lost friends and watched young men under his command die. His vehicle had been hit more times than any other officer in the Battalion—or at least any other officer who was still alive.
He actually had the surf board to go with the surfer look. It had been the first major purchase he had made on returning to Camp Pendleton. He had learned to ski in college; he had become a proficient surfer very quickly. Other than his present activity---attempting to get laid---surfing had become his primary recreational activity. While he worked long hours, the long days of summer and the legendary Southern California weather gave him ample opportunity to pursue his new found addiction.
Sensing an opportunity and the wordless invitation of her acknowledgment the young man left his friends and moved over to join the young blond. He didn't have some prearranged pickup line. He didn't really need one. He had an easy, confident manner and a quick friendly smile. He paid attention to the women he was interested in. He was a handsome kid whose closely cropped USMC haircut did nothing to distract from his good looks. He had been told by more than one young blond that he had beautiful eyes.
Young blonds---his other addiction after surfing. Tight little butts, compact and athletic little bodies. He wasn't that big a breast man; he had been quite adequately suckled as a breast fed infant until he ate his first hamburger. He was also at heart a bit of a romantic. Certainly he pursued and caught the occasional coyote---an older women just looking for a vigorous fuck from a virile young Marine. When it came to young blonds, however, there was always that thought in his mind---is this the one? Will I fall in love with her? He had always been reasonably lucky in lust but less so in love.
He loved strong, confident and assertive women. They needed to have a brain and a sharp wit. To date, his serious relationships had been with a small number of complex young women. Their complexity made them interesting. It also on occasion made them difficult. He had pledged his undying love twice in his young life. His overture was immediately accepted on both occasions. Also in both instances the woman in question had gotten cold feet and had withdrawn from the idea of eternal love and marriage. So, he thought, here I am, ready to spend the rest of my life with that one special woman---supposedly what many young women of his age were looking for---and I keep striking out.
Every woman who knew him who hadn't been the object of his undying love knew what an incredible catch this young man was---and wished they were the object of his affections. He was a damned good kid who would do good things with his life---and love some special woman totally and faithfully. Those that cared for him knew that special woman was out there. It would be a woman who, having dated reasonably extensively and having had some crappy relationships of her own, would go, "Holy shit—this guy's a keeper!" That special woman would be at just that right moment in her young life when she was ready, and able, to commit---to return his affections---to love him to death forever.
Was this the one, he thought as he slid into the chair beside her? He introduced himself, as he always did, often making a self deprecating comment about his minority status---as a Marine as opposed to a yuppie. He had, on occasion received a terse response, to wit, "I don't date Marines---please go away." That had been an all too common response in Georgetown when had been assigned to the Quantico Marine base South of DC. The hot little Washington interns as a demographic group shunned Marines like the plague.
This young lady was different; her name was Megan with an obviously Irish surname. She extended her hand warmly, immediately asking him if he was with the unit which had recently returned from Iraq. When he responded in the affirmative, she took his hand in both of hers, looked him in the eye, smiled warmly and said, sincerely. "Thank you for your service. We who do not serve all owe you who do our extreme heartfelt thanks and are in your debt."
He was blown away. A greeting of this sort was far more common today than it had been for his father thirty five years earlier when he had returned from Vietnam. He was instantly smitten. He definitely needed to get to know this girl better---possibly forego the opportunity to get laid tonight in lieu of something more serious. He thanked her, barely able to keep the moisture from his eyes as he considered the special words she had just uttered.
They got to know each other. Her dad had been a Marine in Vietnam. She was the youngest of three; she had two brothers---neither had served in the military. She worked for a systems firm in Del Mar---her first job following graduation. She had attended the University of Texas at Austin. She was twenty-two---having graduated from high school a year early.
