Her name was Luann, and before I ended up sitting beside her at the bar of the Madison Grill on an early Friday afternoon, I had never seen her before, even though we worked in the same office complex down the street.
If I had ever seen her before that, I would have remembered her, trust me on that. Not because she was incredibly attractive, because to be honest, Luann wasn't, at least not to the average red-blooded American man. Then again, I'm not average. My tastes run contrary to most guys, and that isn't an apology, just a fact.
So when I looked over that the woman on my left that day, who was talking to a bunch of co-workers who had come to the tavern for a liquid lunch, I wasn't bowled over by her breasts, which appeared on the small end of the spectrum - nice but not remarkable in any way.
It wasn't her eyes, because I hadn't even seen them yet because she was facing the other way much of the time, and she was wearing glasses as well. Luann's complexion showed faint traces of acne scars from the past, although she was at least 10 years beyond her teens.
What captivated me was resting on the edge of the bar, and once I glanced over at Luann's arm I lost all interest in the TV. The subtitles of Judge Mathis no longer mattered to me, once my eyes went to that slender arm with the elbow resting on the mahogany.
The skin was pale, even though it was summer, and that suggested to me that Luann probably seldom wore short sleeves or sleeveless clothing. I knew the reason for that, even though at that point I hadn't spoken to her young woman yet.
The reason Luann kept her arms covered much of the time was the fact that her arms were hairy. Not covered with thick and coarse fur, but graced with a downy growth of what looked to be soft and fine hair, and black as hair could be, starkly contrasting to the milky white skin below it.
From her bony wrist, right up her forearms and above, where the sleeve that went down to her bicep blocked by view, the long hairs fluttered with every movement she made. Even the air currents made the down billow, and as I stared at her I could feel my erection drooling into my underwear, assuring the skin would be fused to the cotton before long.
I wanted to touch her so badly - just to rest my hand on her arm and let my palm slide up her arm - that it almost would have been worth getting cursed out, or even arrested. Instead, I sat and had another beer while Luann talked to the group of people around her.
The group had shrunk as the lunch hour passed, and now that Judge Mathis had been replaced by Judge Joe Brown, Luann only had one person left with her. I stared at the rather plain woman, trying to telepathically send the message that I wanted to convey.
I'm probably old enough to be your father, I wanted to tell her, and I'm not all that great looking myself, but I find you fascinating. That little faux sideburns - that down that swirls around your ear - looks adorable.
Are you hairy all over? I suspect you are, and you're probably embarrassed by it. I'll bet you have a lot of hair between your legs, a thick and wild bush that probably grows high and wide as well as down between your legs up to the ass. Maybe your asshole is hairy as well.
That's okay with me, I wanted to tell her. Some of us - maybe not a lot of men, and women too - like hair, and the sight of it doesn't turn us off. Just the opposite.
Do you shave your legs and underarms? You're wearing slacks so I can't tell, but I suspect you do. The short sleeves stop me from seeing your armpits, and I haven't been able to look up them when I tried, but I suspect you probably do. Too bad, but I understand.
Just then, Luann's last comrade went to the restroom, and when she spun back to facing the mirror behind the bar to finish her drink, I cleared my throat and actually spoke to this stranger. I think it was me talking, although the Sam Adams may have helped in this totally uncharacteristic move on my part.
"Excuse me," I said. "I've been sitting her beside you for about an hour, and I just wanted to tell you that you have the most incredible arms I remember seeing."
The reaction I got from this stranger was not what I expected. A slap, a "fuck off" or just being ignored were all within the realm of possibility, but none were what I got, After the initial surprised look I got when she noticed for the first time that I was sitting beside her, her eyes blazed for a second, and then she looked hurt.
"You aren't funny," she said curtly, turning away from me and back to her drink.
"No no no," I said quickly, since it was clear that she assumed I was being a wise-ass. "I'm sorry. I mean that really. Please don't take it wrong."
"I shouldn't have said anything," I said. "I was out of line, but I haven't been able to take my eyes off you all this time, and I had to tell her how beautiful I thought you were."
"I really wasn't trying to be funny," I continued, probably looking as crushed as the stranger had been after she took my comment the wrong way. "I'm just an old man with a big mouth, but I meant what I said. Sorry."
"That's okay," Luann said, and as she spoke she ran her hand over her forearm, probably self-consciously without really realizing it. "Some people..."
"I know," I said. "I understand completely."
"My name is Luann, and it's my birthday," she said, offering her hand, and I clasped it in my own.
"I'm Jim. Happy birthday, Luann" I said. "I didn't mean to ruin it for you. Can I at least buy you a drink to celebrate the occassion?"
"Well, I was going to head home," Luann said, looking up at the clock.
"That's okay," I mumbled. "That wasn't a come-on line or anything. You've probably got celebrating to do."
"No," Luann said. "This - this is it. This is my party."
Luann's co-worker came back from the bathroom and told her she had to get back to the salt mine.
"I'm staying here," Luann announced. "Thank everybody for me. I'm taking the rest of the day off."
"Guess I'll take you up on that birthday drink after all Jim," Luann said as she turned back towards me, and that was how the best afternoon I had in a long time began.
An hour and a half later, Judge Joe Brown had bit the dust, along with Nancy Grace, and with Judge Judy getting ready to begin, Luann and I were still there having a great time, or at least I was.
Being better at getting other people to open up than talking myself, I managed to learn a lot about Luann. She was 32, and had been married once when she was younger, but it didn't work out. She didn't say she was lonely, but I could tell she was. That much we had in common.
Luann was kind enough to tell me I didn't look 58, and I told her that I had socks older than she was, and she didn't look her age either. We talked about everything under the sun, and after these couple of hours I felt like I actually knew the girl.
"Guess I better think about heading home," Luann said.
"I just want to thank you for the best afternoon I can remember," I said. "To think if I didn't open my big mouth I never would have met you."
"I'm glad you did," Luann said softly.
"Maybe we'll run into each other again up here," I suggested. "I take a lot of Friday afternoons off up here."
"I'd like that," Luann said as she watched me drain my glass.
"Can I ask you one favor before you go?" I said hopefully, the fifth Sam Adams giving me beer bravery.
"Sure."
"Can I touch your arm?" I asked, having been able to avoid the subject that got us talking to begin with. "I know it's weird. I'm weird, and I understand if..."
"Go ahead."
Luann smiled and moved her arm a little closer to me, and as she did I didn't care if other people were watching on not.