The Excel Workshop was a welcomed diversion from the everyday routine of the Community Center, and today, being Friday, would mean a sort of three-day weekend. Traffic was light in the morning on Waugh drive. So, getting to the class was easy. I could not wait until the class was over.
The instructor was a nice enough guy, a retiree from the power company who was glad to be retired. His jovial greeting not only made me feel at ease, but it also let me know that the class would be fun as well as interesting. Being the first to arrive and sign in, getting my pick of the computer stations, I took one in the middle of the class close to the wall. From there I could see everybody in class. As I sipped my cup of cream and coffee. Even at fifty-one, I always put more cream than coffee.
As I sipped, the other people taking the class started to trickle in. It always seemed that in classes like this it was more white women in the class. This time it was almost half black and half white; with me being the only male.
Leafing through the class manual my eyes caught a beautiful black woman out the corner of my eye; in her early to late fifties, with dark brown hair with streaks of grey running through it. She came in and sat down to my left with a seat between us. I have always been attracted to older women around my age. I've never been "teeny bopper" chaser; the strength and classic look of this gorgeous Nubian woman kept me sneaking peaks at her all through class. She was average height with a very enticing shape. Not a hair out of place, polished from head to toe.
The class was released to have lunch for an hour. Outside I saw Rose and another lady, whose name escapes me, standing outside talking. I asked them if they knew somewhere around here to eat. The other lady said that there was a fast-food place several blocks away. I volunteered the use of my car to take us.
Rose was an Administrative Assistant at a local university and was sharpening her computer skills. She lived, I found, in Missouri City, a suburb of Houston about thirty minutes away. We teased her about living out there in the "New Hood".
As we ate and talked, doing my best not to be so obvious, I found myself taking glancing peaks at her cleavage, then her nipples that pushed the fabric of her white blouse. I soon found that I did not want this relaxing and fun moment to end. But our lunch had to end and it was time for us to get back at class.
At the end of the workshop, we were given a goodbye, the assurance that a certificate would be mailed to us and encouragement to practice what we learned. The class said their good-byes to one another, passed out business cards and soon the class was empty. I stuck around to speak to the instructor about the next class I registered for next month.
Heading to my car I saw Rose still there standing by her car with a flat tire. Volunteering to change her flat I was strangely happy that her tire picked up that wonderful nail. Rose admitted that she seldom drove at night and wondered if I would be so kind as to drive her home. She would get a ride from a friend tomorrow and pick up her car.
"Sure, I would be glad to take you home" I said; trying to keep an appearance of being cool even though I was far from it at that point.
As I drove, we talked about everything. This woman was well read and kept up with the latest events. I felt a little embarrassed at my lack of knowledge about a lot of what she was well versed.
"Don't be embarrassed, get informed" she chided. "I was like you once, until one of my co-workers tried to embarrass me. I made it a point to know what is going around me in this world."
We pulled up to a Townhouse with a well-manicured lawn. The street was lined with thick old live oak trees that formed a woody canopy over the street.
"Beautiful area" I said as we turned into her driveway.
"Come on in before you go" Rose said as she put her key into the front door turning on the porch light. She did not have to ask me twice.
Her home was a clear reflection of the woman. Orderly, well kept; there seemed to be a place for every item in the house. If I didn't know it, I would have bet I was in one of those beautiful home magazine photos you see at the checkout stand in the grocery store.
