When you spend forty to fifty weeks out of a year traveling for business, you try to work in a little vacation whenever circumstances permit.
August of 2010 was one of those times. I had to participate in a symposium on technical certifications for the IT industry that was scheduled in Breckenridge, Colorado. The event in Breckenridge would run Tuesday through Thursday, which would allow me to leave on Friday.
At a charity silent auction two years previous, I had won a one-week ownership of a timeshare in Vail, Colorado, but had never been there to use it. Vail is only around fifty miles from Breckenridge, and there is rumored to be some pretty good trout fishing in the area, so I tagged a week of vacation onto my Colorado trip.
I flew into Colorado Springs on Monday instead of Denver. Since Stapleton International Airport got replaced by the newer airport, I avoid flying into Denver as much as possible. I also liked the fact that with fewer passengers, I was able to reserve a Mustang convertible as my rental car without an upgrade charge.
I had plenty of time to get to Breckenridge and wanted to make the trip a leisurely one. After programming my destination into the GPS and specifying "No Freeways", I followed the directions west from the airport and eventually north through some of the most beautiful mountain scenery I had ever experienced. I reached the Breckenridge Resort mid-afternoon and was checked-in shortly thereafter.
Traveling as much as I did, the opportunities for consistent exercise routines were challenging. Sure, most hotels had a workout facility, but the equipment was variable and frequently non-functioning. I had learned that the most consistent exercise available to me was swimming, which I enjoyed immensely. The resort had both a heated indoor pool that was open year-round and an outdoor pool that was open on a seasonal basis.
After swimming laps in the mostly empty pool for about twenty minutes, I retreated to a table under an umbrella on the pool deck where I had left my towel, sunglasses, and Blackberry so I could keep an eye on them while I was in the pool. I took a chair and surveyed the scenery, and I mean Mother Nature's scenery, not the feminine scenery that was on display around the pool area. I was trying to check e-mail on my Blackberry, holding it at different levels and angles to minimize the glare on the screen, when I heard someone speaking to me.
"Don't you ask a person's permission before taking their picture?"
I glanced away from the screen and into a pair of the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen on a woman -- well, actually, in this case, a girl. She had shoulder-length blonde hair that was worn pushed back behind her ears. She was quite tall; probably around five-feet-nine inches, slender but curves in all the right places. She was wearing the uniform of one of the resort servers, but since she didn't have a name badge visible or her hair secured, I assumed that she was off the clock.
I lowered my sunglasses and studied her for a few seconds before responding, "First of all, I wouldn't use the camera on this thing to take a picture of anything I wanted to capture and keep. Secondly, if I was taking a picture from where I am sitting, it would be of the scene behind you."
In a bitchy tone that I didn't deserve, she asked, "Why wouldn't you want to take a picture of me? You into boys or something?"
I chuckled and shook my head, "I didn't say that I wouldn't want to take a picture of you, I said that if I was taking a picture from where I am sitting, it would be of the mountains behind you. I'm sure that you are very photogenic, but you would deserve something better than the crappy camera on this device."
I held up my Blackberry for her to see what I was referring to. I was still using the Blackberry Bold, model 9000 which came with only a two-megapixel camera. Taking a picture of an inanimate object such as a network switch or serial number plate was one thing. Trying to capture a pretty girl's face was something else entirely.
"So you would want to take my picture," she said, this time with a smile that showed her beautiful teeth in all their glory, "but you didn't answer my question about whether you were into boys or something."
I laughed again and said, "I thought that was a rhetorical question."
"Well, it wasn't," she said. "In my experience, a man with a physique like yours, as tanned and toned as you are and wearing a Speedo swimsuit is usually gay and trying to show off his wares to other men."
"I don't mean to sound condescending," I said, "but you appear to have led a rather sheltered life. Can you take my drink order now, or did you want to question me further?"
She stared at me for a few more seconds, during which time her gaze lowered to my lap, almost involuntarily. My towel was draped over my shoulders so she would have a clear view of my swimsuit when she glanced down.
Finally, she spoke, "I don't start working for another thirty minutes, and I only work part-time serving at catered events. I'm not old enough to serve alcoholic beverages, so I couldn't take your drink order anyway. I'll let someone know to come out and take it for you, though."
I said, "Thank you," and then went back to checking my e-mail, ignoring the pretty but pesky little tart as she walked into the resort building.
Being a subject matter expert on several industry certifications, I found myself surrounded by people who wanted to try and get free consultations from me every time there was a break in the symposium presentations. While I don't mind providing 'teaser samples', I made good money consulting on certification training programs, test preparation tools and the like, so I always tried to politely steer people towards my billable consultations rather than providing them too much for free.
I had enjoyed a large breakfast so that I could utilize the lunch break period for making or re-establishing business contacts. I had a cup of iced tea but ignored the various food stations. My pretty pool-side pest was working as a server at the symposium's catered lunch. Working at the dessert table, I noticed her glancing at me several times when I was speaking with someone else. Strictly out of curiosity, when I had a pause in people wanting to talk to me, I went in search of something 'sweet'.
Offering me a plate of freshly baked cookies, she said, "You seem popular. Does everyone here know you?"
Now that she had her employee badge on, I could see that her name was 'Charlotte'. Somehow that didn't seem to fit her, but it was probably just my perception of that name seeming more appropriate for a girl with a southern accent or something.
"I certainly hope everyone here doesn't know me," I said with a chuckle. "That might be bad for business."
She handed a plate of cookies to another participant without even looking at him and then said to me, "What type of business are you in, Greg? I assume it has something to do with IT since you're here..."
So, she read the name on my name tag. "I own a consulting business," I explained. "IT certification and training are just two of several areas that we consult companies on. I thought that you worked evenings, Charlotte." Two can play that game.
"I work when the catered events are scheduled. Most of them are in the evening, but some are lunches such as this. It's just part-time until the end of this week. They won't need the extra help again until the ski season gets here."
"I see," I said. "Well don't work too hard. I better get back to the presentations."
"Sure," she said with a grin. "I'll see you around."
I didn't give her comments any consideration until later that afternoon when I ran into her on the pool deck. She had taken the vest and tie portion of her uniform off and was sitting at the table where we had met yesterday. There was a magazine in her hand and a bottle of water on the table. I looked around for another location to place my belonging when I swam where I could see them from the pool. She saw me looking around and motioned me over.
"I see you're going for a swim again," she said. Her eyes roamed up and down my body as she spoke. "Go ahead and leave your stuff here. I'll watch it for you."
Now, I'm not a bodybuilder or professional athlete, but as I approach forty, I bear a striking resemblance to the way I looked when I swam competitively while attending UCLA. I no longer shave all my body hair or wear a swim cap, but the physical attributes and stamina remain. I have considered entering one of the iron man competitions but can never find time in my schedule for it.
I set my towel onto the table opposite her, placed my sunglasses on to of it, and then positioned my Blackberry between the arms of the glasses.
"Thanks," I said. "I'll probably be about twenty or thirty minutes, so if you have to leave, don't worry about my stuff. I can watch it from the pool."
She tore her eyes away from her examination of me long enough to glance at my items and asked, "Don't you have a room key?"
I turned slightly and tapped my right hip to indicate where I had slid my card key inside my swimsuit. Her eyes darted quickly to the profile of my manhood visible from the side before glancing up once more. She was biting her lower lip but said nothing as I walked towards the pool and dove in.
Not being certain that she would still be sitting at the table once I had finished swimming laps, I continued to glance that way every few laps. The magazine she had been reading never left her lap as she kept her focus on me. I considered cutting my laps short so that she wouldn't feel obligated to stay, but then I remembered that I had given her permission to leave any time that she wanted.
