The incessant ringing of the doorbell finally pierced the shroud of sleep that was fogging my mind. "Wait a damn minute," I yelled and staggered out of bed. As usual, I was nude, so I threw on an old terry cloth robe before I opened the door of my condo. After the cool darkness of the air-conditioned apartment, the Florida heat, even at 9:30 in the morning was like a blast furnace.
There was a beautiful woman standing there, squinting against the stark whiteness of the sun on the wall. "Sorry to bother you, but I am Rita Harold from the Census Bureau and I would like to ask you a few questions."
I wasn't too groggy to see that Rita Harold was very attractive. She was perhaps in her mid 30s, tall and slender, with quite light, brown hair, blue eyes and the shape of an athlete. In difference to the July Florida heat, she was dressed in a mini skirt, a shell type blouse that accentuated her breasts and sensible, comfortable, tennis shoes. Her arms and legs were well rounded, long and tan.
"Sure, come on in." If she posed any threat at all to me it was only to cause my ever-present morning erection to hang around a little longer. She gave me such a quizzical look up and down that I was afraid it was sticking out of the front of the robe.
I guess it wasn't, because she said, "OK, I'm not supposed to come in but unfortunately yours is a long form so it will take about 30 minutes to complete and it’s very hot here in the sun."
I ushered her into the apartment, turned on some lights and showed her to a seat at the breakfast counter that divided the kitchen from the rest of the unit. "Can I make us some coffee while we talk?"
"Yes, I would kill for a cup of fresh coffee."
I busied myself with the coffee while she ran down the enumerator’s questions. She found out that I was 43 years old, divorced about four years ago, made a lot of money last year in some wild stock deals and had been retired for about a month. I had started over after the divorce because my ex-wife took almost everything I had in the settlement. I had just bought the oceanfront condo.
When I put the cup of coffee down in front of her I noticed that she had quit writing and was again giving me that same quizzical look.
"You sound like quite a catch," she smiled. "Are you are involved with anyone?"
Now it was my turn to laugh when I explained, "No, I have been too busy with my business. When my wife left me I was a poor, struggling insurance agent. She got a five-year-old Ford, a small two-bedroom house with a big mortgage and no alimony. No kids, hence no child support. It was about the best thing she ever did for me. With no one to answer to I took a few flyers and now my investments will bring me enough to retire very comfortably."
I know I was bragging, but for some reason, I did want to impress this desirable young woman.
"I envy you. My husband took off two years ago and left me almost broke. My son worked all through high school to help out. Last month, when he turned 18, he joined the Marines and I took this second job to see if I could catch up on some of my bills."
The questionnaire was forgotten as I sat across from her, sipping coffee and looking into the brilliant blue eyes. I put my hands on hers and said, "Maybe this census thing was meant to bring you and I together."
