I couldn't believe that I was back in Millington. So much had changed. The last time I was here, the streets were lined with Marines and young Sailors, headed to bars like the Brass Rail, but now, the streets were quiet, most of the bars and tattoo parlors had closed. I couldn't believe it was a Friday night and the streets we so quiet. As we made our way to our destination, it became difficult to believe that when I was stationed here it was a booming naval base. The only lights I noticed were the ones at McDonald's and the base hotel, Navy Lodge. As we pulled up in front of the hotel and began to unpack our luggage, I looked around, wondering why I had accepted this assignment. I guess I was halfway expecting the Millington I knew from 1996. I had even asked my co-workers if they wanted to check out the town and get drinks. They didn't really seem interested.
But in a way I expected that. It had been a long drive. Then there was almost a twenty-year age difference between myself and the youngest of my co-workers. Three of them were married and the oldest was a divorcee. I was the youngest person working for our company, and the only minority. I was used to it, thanks to the squadrons I worked at while in the military. However, the age difference was beginning to bother me. Most of my co-workers were older, real life nerds, who spent most of their free time playing Mech Warrior or some other fantasy game. I played against them online from time to time, but I never really took the battles as serious as they did. We all worked for a contractor who installed processor-based servers for IBM. I was the muscle, and they were the brains. Every assignment we went on, I carried my laptop to keep me company. I spent most of my time online chatting. Yea, I know it's not much better, than gaming. As I finished unpacking my clothes, I pulled my laptop out the case and accessed the internet, figuring maybe I could chat the three weeks away.
Finally, the screen finally booted up and I begin to click the icons. Before I had a chance to enter the chat room, the usual people on my messenger list were already speaking. Already I could see it was going to be one of those days in the chat world. The ones you hate, the type of day when no ones saying anything. It's hard to believe there are twenty-two people in the room. I begin speaking to the usual people. After sitting around in the room for almost thirty minutes, several people finally begin talking. Before long, the conversation changes to music. Being one of the only people from the south who frequent the rooms, I'm usually on the defending end of the conversations. Just as predicted, within minutes, the conversation switched to the influx of southern music on BET and MTV.
After listening to this guy online, who calls himself rated, discuss how southern rappers didn't have any lyrical content, I decided to step in, naming several whom I considered talented. Of course, I always have to present both sides of an argument. So when I "dissed" this group named "Three-6," I was surprised to hear an objection. I begin scrolling to see who had responded and got an instant message from exclusiivlee, this girl I met online a couple years before.
She asked me why I was talking about Tennessee and I responded, "well I spent time in Memphis so I can talk about Three- 6 Mafia."
She laughed or as we do it online typed LOL. We talked about the Memphis rap scene for a couple minutes, and she asked me how I knew so much about the local groups and the clubs.
Responding I said, "I spent a year in Millington in '96. In fact, I'm actually in Millington now."
There was a pause in the conversation. I knew she was from Tennessee, but never really knew where she was from. A couple seconds later she sent me an instant message saying "I'm in Millington too."
At first I didn't want to believe her, knowing her reputation for joking around. But the more I thought about it the more it seemed feasible. Thinking quickly, I asked her to prove that she was from Millington. She sent me another instant message with a telephone number and a name, Ursula.
Looking at the screen, I debated if I would call. Picking up the phone in the room, I dialed the number, half expecting to not get anyone on the other end, but on the first ring I heard a warm voice greet me. We begin talking and before I knew it several hours had passed. I'd learned more about her in the last hour than I had learned in the two or three years of talking to her online. Looking at the time, I told her I'd call her after I got off work. Maybe we could get up, and do dinner and a movie. She agreed.
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The next day went by quickly. After, climbing through the cramped ceiling installing cables and wiring for the computer servers, I was exhausted. I'd really pushed myself and managed to complete most of my part of the installation. As I sat outside the restaurant, I begin to wonder, if Ursula was going to even show. She had told me that she would be here by 8:00 p.m., but it was already a quarter after and I beginning to think I had gotten stood up.
Finally, I noticed a newer model Intrepid turn into the parking lot. I watched intently as the car pulled up, trying to sneak a peek at the driver before she had a chance to see me, but the windows were tinted. Getting out of my car, I walked around and opened the door. The first thing I noticed was her smile, which was comforting and framed by a luscious set of lips. As she stood, I noticed she wasn't at all what I'd expected. I'd really expected a frail, anorexic woman, with thick glasses or a six hundred-pound woman, but what I got was a voluptuous, BBW of a woman, with a beautiful face. I was so awe-struck, I didn't even hear her call my name, as she turned and started walking toward the restaurant.
