Chapter 1
It seemed like the thousandth time that I'd taken that trip to San Jose, but this time it was different. I was going for good this time.
After years of talking to people out there, it seemed that just moving out was the smart thing for my career. It'd certainly make a difference in my wallet.
My flight had been canceled the night before, so I was on an early flight to San Francisco out of Atlanta. I'd been shoehorned into the center of the second to last row. I'm not claustrophobic, but I was feeling the cattle car experience firsthand. I was looking forward to a little shut eye through it all.
I'd spent the last two days in a hotel, since all my stuff had been packed and shipped on ahead. I was exhausted. The job search, interview trips, eventual packing, and now travel troubles had left me almost entirely without energy.
The plane was pretty full, and I'd hoped that the seat next to me would stay empty, but it wasn't to be. A young woman, perhaps twentyfour, slender, and with straight shoulderlength dirtyblond hair came down the aisle to the back of the plane, looking at what I figured must be her seat: the one next to me.
She was cute, something I'd be willing to watch for a little while. She was wearing fairly tight jeans and a short white blouse that was not really meant to hide much. She was wearing a gray jogging bra that was filled well. The fabric of her bra was pushed out into well rounded shaped by her breasts. She filled her space nicely.
"Good morning," I said matter-of-faculty.
"Hi," she said as she was struggling with the belt. Nothing else was said. I fell asleep as soon as we were airborne. I felt a nudge, which woke me out of a much needed rest. "Do you want breakfast," she asked. "Umm, sure, ya," I mustered.
"Are you the other vegetarian meal," the flight attended asked.
"No... heck no!" I said. "I'll take anything with meat in it, thanks." She handed me a tray of scrambled eggs and sausage.
"I wonder why she asked that," I mused to myself.
"Because you're sitting next to me, and I ordered vegetarian," the young lady volunteered. "You should try it sometime, it's more healthy than that stuff you're eating."
"What made you decide to go vegetarian, a bad steak or something?"
"Hah. No. A few years ago, I moved in with some vegetarian friends in Santa Cruz, and, well, that was that," she explained. "I've never gone back."
"Ah, Santa Cruz, that mecca of alternative lifestyle," I prodded. I was in a feisty mood. Everything was moving me in that direction that day.
"Yup, and I suppose that you'd consider me the poster child. I live in sort of a apartment house with two other women, which I suppose you'd consider a commune."
"No kidding. Two roommates. That must cramp the old lifestyle." I prodded some more.
"Well, actually, it is my lifestyle. We're actually all sort of living together." I got the picture, but didn't know what to say.
"Umm, wow, well, I didn't mean to pry!" I backed off. Fast.
"Actually, you didn't, but we all love our lifestyles, and aren't ashamed of it. People like us should be more open with it."
"Ya, well, there ya go."
"You're now a captive audience. I just spent a week on the conservative east coast, you know."
"Uh huh. Don't you ever want kids? Doesn't it seem that you're giving up a lot?"
"Well, ya, sort of. A few of us have been talking about planning for the future in that way." I was curious to hear what was coming next. "We've looked into artificial insemination, and may go that way if we can come up with enough money to do it right."
"Hmm." I stopped the conversation for a while. I felt as though I was invading someone's space in a big way. A few minutes passed.
"So, you strike me as the conservative east coast type," she observed.
"Me, east coast, ya, not quite conservative. You'll never see me in a tie."
"It's just the talk about kids and all..."
"Well, you do want kids, right? So what's conservative about that?"
"Nothing I suppose. It came off as a little judgmental, that's all."
"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. We went from talking about your being a vegetarian to your sex life pretty quickly." This time she let the conversation idle for a few minutes.
"You know, there are cheaper ways to do it," I blurted out.
"Do what?"
"Conceive have kids, I mean."
"Oh, you mean the conservative, traditional way, right? I've heard of that," she said sarcastically. "You know, I'm not entirely gay, I still see things in guys that I like.
"You just need the right guy, you know, who's willing to do the upfront work." I was stammering a little. This was an odd conversation. A few minutes passed, as we both looked at magazines.
"What do you think of this suit," she asked, showing me a tanthrough swimsuit being modeled by a woman who seemed to have no brain whatsoever.
"I like it," I said. It was a full body suit that had high lines at the thighs and a low cut at the breasts. "It accentuates all the right things." I went out on a limb, "I think it'd look pretty good on you."
She blushed, "Oh you do, do you?" "So, um, would you happen to know any of those guys who could help me out with my, shall we say, proposed project?"
"You mean get you pregnant?" "Well, ya," she said, as if to say "duh!"
"Well, I, uh, I'd be inclined to give it a try. I'm moving out there you know."
"Really?"
"Ya, I'd have a few conditions though," I said. I was beginning to regain some composure.