Let me introduce myself, John, 30, an average looking man, if rather on the short side, standing at only 5ft 4. Not particularly good looking but also not repulsive, as I said just average. Leaving school at 16, I became an engineering apprentice with a large international company, who specialised in manufacturing equipment for use in the food industry. I worked hard and now hold the post of a Senior Commissioning Engineer, a posh term for someone who has to correct others mistakes. I own a small flat in my home town, but rarely get to spend time there, as I spend most of my time visiting different factories, in different towns. I consider my home to be a suitcase and whatever hotel I am staying at, as my job entails me staying away, days, weeks and even months at a time. Because of this nomadic lifestyle, a long standing relationship with a woman is impossible. It was also true to say that finding a woman to have sex with, was difficult, not many want a shag with a man who has to leave half way through the night, to head off to pastures new, some do, most don't. I resigned myself to self relief and much to my shame, prostitutes.
However, a chance meeting in a hotel bar one night, was about to change that. It was Friday night and I had just finished this assignment, my next port of call was about a 100 miles North of where I am now, the thought of driving the 200 odd miles back to my flat, then having to travel back further early Monday morning, just didn't appeal to me, so I stayed at the hotel. It had a good bar and served decent food, besides the company was paying. I sat at the bar, enjoying a post meal drink, watching a football match on the big screen, pondering if I should go into town and see if I can find a woman of easy virtue, when I felt the presence of someone sitting on the stool next to me. A quick glance told me it was an older lady, I turned back to the TV, when she said,
"Aren't you going to say hello then, John?"
I turned and blankly looked at her, she obviously knew me, but I had no idea who she was. She just laughed at me,
"If I had my white coat, hair net and mop cap on, would you know who I am?"
"Bloody hell, JANET!" I exclaimed.
The places I work, have strict codes of dress for hygiene purposes, one person fades into another and when you see them in normal clothing, they are barely recognisable.
"I'm sorry, it's just you look so different!" I told her.
"In a good way I hope." She giggled.
In a very good way I thought to myself, for an older woman, she was very attractive, curves in all the right places. I offered her a drink, which she declined, as she was meeting someone. We chatted about work, something I hated doing in my free time, but her enthusiasm and excitement about operating the new machine, was so intense, I found myself enjoying the conversation. As we talked she constantly checked her phone, looked towards the door. After about a hour, she sighed,
"Oh well, another no show, a time waster."
A sad look fell upon her face, her eyes filled, her voice stuttered,
"Thanks for the chat, I better get going." She murmured.
I put my hand on hers, felt it shake,
"How about that drink now?" I asked.
She nodded, I bought a bottle of wine, two glasses and pointed to a table in the corner,
"We can talk in private over there."
I poured her a large glass and asked,
"Do you want to tell Uncle John all about it?"
She almost spat her wine out,
"Uncle John, what's that all about?" She enquired.
"I answer so many questions and solve problems, the boys have nicknamed me "Uncle John, the Agony Aunt." I replied.
To prove the point I showed her the messages on my works phone, all started with,
"Uncle John."
With still glazed eyes, she said,
"I don't even think Uncle John could help me."
"Why not try me, you never know."
She looked a me, wondering if she could.
"A problem shared, is a problem halved. I'll be gone on Monday, you'll probably never see me again, so whatever you say, will soon be a distant memory."
In a quiet almost inaudible voice she began to speak,
"I lost my husband in a car crash nearly 10 years ago, I grieved badly for him, still do, I piled on some weight and lost my self confidence, preferring to immerse myself in work, shying away from any social interaction. My friend tried her best, introducing me to some of her friends, but it wasn't for me, I felt I could not open up about my feelings."
I took her hand in mine, squeezing it gently, I knew how she felt, having lost my big sister in similar circumstances, there's a pain that never goes away. She continued,
"Whilst chatting online one day, an advert popped up, "WIDOWS AND WIDOWERS." A place claiming to offer friendship and chat to those, who like me found themselves alone. At first I chatted to women only, I gained some confidence and opened my circle of friends to men. I would spend hours online chatting, paying every month for unlimited messages. Some were genuine, asking only for friendship and talk, others like him tonight, would arrange a meet and not bother to turn up, those that kept a date thought that just by turning up, they could get in my panties. This was my last attempt, I'm finished with it now."
Tears began to run down her face, I wiped away one, then another.
"Sorry you don't want to hear my problems, I better go." She mumbled.
She started to get up, but I put my hand on her thigh holding her in place, I turned to face her, put my fingers to my temples, closed my eyes and chanted some gobbledygook. In a mystic voice, which in reality sounded like Miss Piggy on helium, said to her,
"Uncle John, sees all, knows all, you have made good friends, those who failed to turn up, are FOOLS! As for those who wanted to bed you, who can blame them."
"You twat." She joked at me.
We finished the wine and ordered a coffee,
"Janet, what are you doing tomorrow?" I asked.
"I have to go shopping in the morning, but then nothing, why?"
"I just wondered, as I'm alone in a strange town, whether you fancy meeting for lunch, take in a film and after enjoy a few drinks."
