(Everyone involved in sexual activity in this story is over 18 years of age and any similarities between this story and real life are purely coincidental)
***
Growing up on the grounds of a summer resort center near the beach in California, afforded me the opportunity to meet a large number of girls as they passed through on vacation each year with their families. One of those vacationers was Sherilynn.
It was the early-1980's and so, with the exception of snail mail and land lines, it was impossible to keep in touch. Not yet lived were the days of Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and the rest of the stay-connected, social media sites. However, Sheri and I managed to stay buddies throughout high school and early college; eventually losing touch as I moved even further away, got a job, and a wife.
Sheri and I were never romantically involved. Just two young people who enjoyed each other's company at a movie, picnicking, riding around in her dad's fast car, swimming in her pool, and just hanging out and laughing. As I look back on those times, she was definitely a babe and without a doubt very desirable, but we just never went there; exchanging that kind of awkwardness for a platonic friendship.
Fast forward 7 years, my company decided to have me work one week out of every month in our regional headquarters a few hours from my home. The excessive, late 80's, corporate travel life consisted of luxury hotels, fine dining, large bar tabs, mobile phone bills, and a welcomed, party-like break from the hum-drum life of a young, unhappily married man.
While at home one weekend, I was rifling through some old paperwork when I stumbled across one of my "little black books" from my younger days. The names and addresses that were included barely scratched the surface of the stories of good times that lay behind them all. Maureen from LA, Kathie from San Diego, Annette from Nevada, wow! All those incredible memories. And then, Sherilynn. Oh my god. The memories came flooding back: The beach; Togo's sandwiches; movies; the park. I looked closer at her contact information and, low and behold, she was from a town very close to where my company was now sending me once a month to work. I tucked the little address book into my briefcase. Next week, I would be working out of the remote office and needed to satisfy my curiosity as to whether Sheri was still around.
I remembered she worked in a flower shop and, armed with that information and an unlimited expense account for my mobile cellular phone (such a high-tech novelty for those days), I decided to dial a few places on the 2-hour drive from home to my hotel-home for the week ahead. On one of my first few tries, I hit paydirt.
"Hello, is Sherilynn there," I asked as they answered the phone?
"Well, she is with a customer. Can I help you," the reply came from a co-worker?
"Um, well, let's see. She was working on something specific for me, so maybe it is better that I speak directly to her," I bullshitted.
"Okay. Well, give me your number and I'll have her call you back when she gets a chance."
"Okay great. This is John and she can call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx. Thank you."
And now, I would simply have to wait to see if she would call. I began to wonder what I'd say. We really didn't have very many lasting memories together, just simple, homegrown, good times that she'd probably had with any number of people. I wondered whether she'd even remember me. That would be awkward; having to explain...
Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hello, this is John. Can I help you?"
"Hello. This is Sherilynn from the flower shop. You called about an order we were working on, but I am very sorry I don't have any memory of working on an order with someone by your name recently," she explained.
"This is John. Togo's #23. Do you..."
"Oh my god! John! What the hell are you doing? How are you? Where are you? How long has it been," she cut me off peppering me with questions?
"It has been quite a while. I found your name in an address book a little while ago and knew I would be up in this area soon and, well, I remembered you worked in the flower business, so I started poking around."
"Wow. I can't believe it is you. I always figured I would never hear from you again," Sheri said.
"Yep. It is me. Listen, I don't know what your situation is, but if you're free sometime this week, let's get dinner and hang out."
"I would absolutely love that. I don't care what I have going on John, I'll cancel my plans to see you."
"Well thank you. Is tonight too soon? What time do you get off work?"
"Tonight will work. I get off at 5. I should probably go home and change since I am covered in flower clippings and I can be there by 6. Does that work?"
"Perfect. This is my cellular phone number. Why don't you call this as you are leaving your house and that will give me a heads up?"
"Wow. A mobile phone? Don't you live the fancy life. Sure. That works perfectly. What hotel are you staying at," she asked?
"I am at the big Marriott."
"Oh, very nice. That is only about 20 minutes away from me. I'll see you later on this evening. I am so glad you called me John. I am so excited to see you."
Well. That couldn't have gone any better for me. I checked into my hotel, headed out to grab some wine for the room from a local grocery story, and laid back on my bed. I dozed off, but was woken up by the ringing of my room phone. "Hello, this is John."
"Hello. Front desk here. We have a visitor for you, Sherilynn. Do we have authorization to send her to your room?"
"Oh, um, yes. I mean, I'll come right down to the lobby and meet her. Thank you."
She had surprised me by not calling before she left home and so, all at once, here it was; just an elevator ride away from seeing Sheri. I hadn't seen her in years and, with all that goes on in the life of a 20-something, it seems like it had been an eternity.
Rounding the corner into the lobby, I caught a glimpse of a somewhat dumpy, overweight, permed-hairdo woman at the front desk. I froze in my steps. And then, from the side, I heard, "John? Is that you?"
