It started quite innocently. Ok maybe I should rephrase that. There was not much innocent about the discussion I found myself deeply engaged in that evening. She was a blonde. Actually blonde always seems, at least to me as being hair that has a golden honey glow, long and straight. You get the idea. This woman's hair was white. Almost albino white. I could see she wasn't an albino from her skin colour and I could see a generous amount of it, including a décolletage that seemed to stretch right down to where I was expecting to see pubic hair appear. Now, i know that you have in your mind a screen goddess. Huge doe like eyes, slim, curvaceous. You are, aren't you? I can practically hear your thoughts. If you are a woman, it will be along the lines of "Tramp", "Tart", etc., etc. If you are guy of course it will be a raging torrent of confused shouting, moaning and downright naked lust. Well, then let me disabuse you of this image. She was, actually still is, short and muscular, with square boyish looks and hair cut short and spiky.
The party was not the sort of thing I have any love for, but I had been lured into joining my partner for the "partners included" function for what was the end of a team building exercise by two things. One was that the farm where the whole event was being staged was in the high Karoom for me a major attraction, but the most important thing about this farm was that it had reputedly the best amateur astronomical observatory in the country. I had talked to an acquaintance from the astronomy club who had been granted a visit and he literally drooled, recounting in almost sexual terms the size and quality of the equipment mounted on the roof the triple garage. The centre piece of the observatory was a permanently mounted 24 inch Celestron Schmidt Cassegrain . . . Ok, I know, too much information. Just let me say that this was an observatory to be visited. To actually use it, you might have to sell your soul and that would probably be cheap at the price.
It turned out that "The Blonde" was the astronomer and had the only key to the stairway grill gate and if I wanted to see the observatory I would have to sweet talk her into taking me up. Her name is Angie, but she will forever be "The Blonde" in my mind. Early in the evening before things could get seriously out of hand, I approached her and started an innocent conversation, slowly introducing the topic of astronomy, etc. etc. It turned out that I needn't have been quite so devious, she agreed almost immediately to show me. Or in her words, "Take you to paradise." The double entendre was as subtle as a sledge hammer. She stood far too close to me for comfort and her hands surreptitiously managed to make contact with parts of me that were not quite off limits, but bordering on it.
Fleetingly I wondered if i should give up the attempt to visit the observatory or bring my non astronomically minded partner along as a chaperone. I decided, with much misplaced bravdo, that I could control the situation and so "The Blonde" and I set out for the observatory, alone. We got the grill gate and she extracted the key from a pocket and we went upstairs, not before she had firmly locked the gate behind us. The grill gate and surrounding fence were formidable and it struck me fleetingly that if I wanted to escape, I would have to jump over the edge of the garage. But it wouldn't come to that. I could hold my own. I hoped.
