Flash.
It was the flash of reflected light that caught my eye. I went over to the wall of the parking garage and picked up the bright object. It was a cheap and gaudy woman's broach made out of plastic. It was in the shape of a crescent moon. Most of it was black, but parts had a shiny, metallic gold finish.
"Here, my dear, a token of my undying love and affection," I said as I offered the trinket to my date.
"I've gotten better gifts out of a Cracker Jack box," was her reply. But being the good sport that she was Wonda pinned it on blouse. We linked arms and laughed as we walked to the lobby of the hotel.
Wonda and I had been seeing each other for about a year and a half. We had met at work. We are those annoying telemarketers who call you every night just as you sit down to dinner. For us it's just a job while we go to school to prepare for our real careers. She is working on her MBA in finance while I'm finishing up my Doctorate in Physics.
The basis of our relationship is our desire to have some kind of sex life. Between our crazy schedules of school and work, we have almost no free time and what time we have comes at odd hours. We have both attempted to have relationships, but our partners move on when they realize how infrequent we are available for them and that the situation is not going to change for at least another two years.
We have no expectations of each other. Our relationship is perfect for our situation. We have someone to talk to when we get lonely and someone to fuck, well, when what you really need is a good fuck. We don't particularly like each other.
Wonda isn't really my type. I liked the fact that she has a good sense of humor and is smart enough not to let herself become pregnant. Her beak-like nose dominates her face. At 5' 9', she is taller than I like. But then I don't like anything that reminds me that I am two inches shy of six feet. Her dark brown hair is okay. She keeps it short on top and long down below. In both cases, she has opted for low maintenance over style. Body-wise I would prefer more curves. She has thin shoulders and small breasts. Her hips too are thin, but broad and she has no butt to speak of.
I also know that I am not the man of her dreams. She would prefer someone taller with blonde hair and a more muscular build. My glasses and tendency towards a uni-brow are not a turn on. I too am on the thin side. We both pay a price for too much time spent working, studying or in class and living below the poverty line.
Tonight was different, we were in Las Vegas and everything was first class. I had won a sales contest for setting up the most appointments to discuss "perpetual care" cemetery services in our office. First prize was an all expense paid trip for two to Las Vegas. So I invited my best girl and here we were. We had just had a nice dinner and were heading back to our room.
As we were waiting in the lobby for an elevator, a bell captain came over to us and said, "This elevator will take you directly to your floor." He escorted us around the corner to an elevator, which he opened with a key.
"Thanks a lot," I said and Wonda and I got in. As the doors were closing I reached for the numbered buttons to punch in our floor and I was surprised to see this elevator had no buttons. "That's odd," I said, "look Wonda." Puzzled, she and I looked at the blank wall while the elevator engaged and we began our ascent.
"That's weird," she said. "I wonder how it knows which is our floor?"
We stood perplexed as the elevator continued to whine and to take us up. Eventually, it stopped and the doors opened. We hesitantly got off the elevator, where a doorman in a red velvet coat met us. The doorman said, "Good Evening, your host will be joining you shortly. Please have a drink and make yourself at home."
Before us was a room of people drinking and talking. It donned on me that we had unwittingly joined a private party. I began to say something when Wonda cut in, saying to the doorman, "Thank you. Which way to the bar?"
The doorman gestured to the room off to the left. When we were out of ear shot I said, "Wonda, what are you doing? Obviously, we have crashed someone's party."
"I know. Look, I've done this dozens of times. When you're a poor college student you can't pass up any opportunity for good food and top-shelf liqueur. It's practically how I survived college."
