GON #5: The Meeting
Getting Old Now
Westlake Village, California
July 28, 1098
7:45 PM EST
4:45 PM PST:
“You have mail!”
Lippy1.fatboy.net
Hi, baby!
beachbaby.global.com
I have a United flight out of Kennedy landing at O'Hare at 1:40 CST, so I’ll wait for you, and if for some reason I haven’t landed, you wait for me, okay?
Lippy1.fatboy.net
“Yeah, Barb, but I don’t know what you look like.”
beachbaby.global.com
“It’s okay, Mitchie, I know what you look like.”
Lippy1.fatboy.net
Only from the head up.
beachbaby.global.com
Yeah, baby, and I’ll have absolutely no problem spotting you.
Lippy1.fatboy.ne
And if I’m there before you? Send me a picture!
beachbaby.global.com
Like one of me me naked, would you?
Lippy1.fatboy.ne
Yeah! That would be nice.
beachbaby.global.com
No, Guess you’ll just have to use your imagination and wait to see me in person. Chuck just came home, got to go. Bye.
*** Sitting a few minutes digesting what had just happened.
Knowing that in less than three months I would be meeting Barbara. That, by our written conversations, this lady that — For whatever ‘her’ unknown reason — physically knowing noting of what would be waiting for me if…
If I joined her for two nights in a hotel room that I have ‘no’ idea if I’ll even want to join her in a hotel room.
“Shit!” Standing, going onto my rear deck. “Milt!. Hey, Milt! If you still want to do that boat ride, I’ll bring the beer.”
“Yeah!” Came the response from the other side of our joint barrier wall. “Your boat or mine?”
“I’ll drive.”
5:32 PM
Snaking along with with barely a wake ripple. The early evening sun shining through the boat’s fitted canvas cover pleasantly warming my face and bare chest.
Milt snoozing on the long port side cushioned seat.
My mind and thoughts not of or about Barbara. My thoughts are on Marsha, my ex wife whom I haven't seen nor heard from since the day she turned from me without a thought of the thirty-two years of our marriage on…
Monday, June 16, 1986
Los Angeles International Airport
Standing at the curb as the ‘Red Cap’ wheeled her luggage away.
“We’ve still better than an hour before you take off. Give me a
couple of minutes to park the car and I’ll wait with you.”
“No…” she said “...no reason to prolong it, I’d just as soon say ‘goodbye’ here, now.”
“Okay, Marsha…” feeling a profound sadness at this “...if this is the way you want it.”
“Yes, I do, Mitchell… ‘Bye’!”
Without a further word, turning away, Marsha rushed to catch up with the ‘Red Cap’.
Watching for the few seconds it took Marsha to meld with the crowd and disappear from sight…
Sighing, getting into the Ford, I began the trip home.
Westlake Village, California
July 28, 1098
Do I want to try to see her when I’m in Chicago? Do I even want to see her when I’m in Chicago? I don’t know. I thought. To maybe get laid? She was a bitch to me when she was fifty-two and can’t even imagine how she’ll be at sixty-two. Maybe just try to call her? Don’t have her phone number, possibly at…Thinking … ‘Maxie’s Nails’ in Lincolnwood? Was that even the name Marsha told me? ‘Maxie’s Nails’?
Fuck it!
Finishing the last of my second ‘Corona’ as, passing ‘The Landing’ on our port side, going to the far eastern boundary of Westlake Lake, turning the helm to starboard, we slowly shifted from east to west with the sun now warming my neck and bare back.
The shift of sunshine and breeze rousing Milt. Opening the ice chest and taking the fifth of the six pack of ‘Corona’. “You getting hungry?”
Actually, “Yeah, I am.”
Approaching ‘The Landing’ again, nodding his head to starboard, “Want to dock here?”
“No, not tonight…” I said “...not unless you want to.”
“Don’t care. What you got a taste for?”
“Baby-backs.”
“Yeah…‘Casa Adobe’?”
“Where else.” Strange that a Mexican restaurant has the best baby-back ribs that I’ve had in all my years in California. And for a native Chicagoan that’s saying a lot for ‘Casa Adobe’s baby-backs.
“One left, want another?” Milt asked.
Still a half hour from home. “Sure why not.”
Opening the ice chest, Milt handed me the last Corona.
6:28 PM
Gliding alongside my one boat dock, Milt stepped ashore and cleated the boat down.
“Half hour do it?”
“Yeah…” I said “...meet you in front.”
Cutting across the thin shore line from my place to his, Milt went home to ...After better than an hour on the boat and three beers each, both of us into our sixties, guess the first thing we both did was to pee. Then to wash up and change into clean shorts.
7:02 PM
Nodding as we met outside, I seated myself into Milt’s ‘96, fire engine red ‘Ford Thunderbird’ convertible.
The year after the death of Milt’s wife, Harriet, having no wife or female to answer to, Milt had traded his old ‘Lincoln Continental’ for a new ‘Thunderbird’.
A beautiful southern California night, with the Thunderbird’s top down, we drove the three miles to ‘Casa Adobe’ for our diner of baby-back ribs and a Margarita… or two.
ONGOING: Our long distance masturbatory sexual tryst on the morning of 7/25/98 , apparently finding — for both Barbara and myself... After the heat of passion had passed, realising what we had done and finding it rather embarrassing the morning ‘7/25/98’ being a ‘one time’ thing, our affectionate Emails did continue and on…
August 28, 1998
Long Island,New York…. 4:45 PM, EST
Westlake Village, California… 1:45 PST
beachbaby.global.com
Mitchie, baby, I’ve been thinking and think that I have been very unfair to you.
Lippy1.fatboy.net
I agree. I don’t know what you have been unfair about, but I agree…. About what?
beachbaby.global.com
About sending you a picture of myself.
Lippy1.fatboy.net
Okay! I agree. So are you going to?
beachbaby.global.com
Yes, I will send you a picture of myself. But because I’ve only seen that ‘Writers Place’ head shot of you, I’d like to see what you look like whole. For all I know you might weigh three hundred pounds.
Lippy1.fatboy.net
And you might have two heads.
beachbaby.global.com
Nah, don’t have two heads, but do have very nice boobies.
Lippy1.fatboy.net
Yeah, honey, I think about your real nice boobies a lot! So this picture of me, you want to see me naked, ‘cause I don’t have any like that.”
beachbaby.global.com
LOL! No, honey. THAT I want to find out in person. Dressed will do.
*** Figuring I might need something to talk about when we were together, I had never mentioned my ‘Elysium’ summer to Barbara and taking pictures ‘anyplace’ on ‘The Field’ was 100% forbidden.
September 2, 1989
Long Island,New York…. 5:02 PM, EST
Westlake Village, California… 2:45, PST
beachbaby.global.com
So you got them?
Lippy1.fatboy.net
Yes, I’ll post them right now
*** I then forwarded two pictures of myself, one taken when I was twenty-two and one taken within the last four years.
beachbaby.global.com
Very nice, baby! Can’t wait to get my hands on you. On ALL of you.
Lippy1.fatboy.net
Your turn now!
beachbaby.global.com
Okay, baby, here they come!
Lippy1.fatboy.net
No fair!!!!!!!
*** Barbara, on the other hand, forwarded two pictures: one very over exposed picture and one very much out of focus. Neither of which I could make out any personal features. Both of which she said were taken years ago.
For a fourth-four year old woman, what does ‘taken years ago’mean?
So what does she look like now?
Okay...
Having about a month and a half before the contest, I went on an immediate crash diet.
And, okay. Sure, the weekend with Barbara might all be wishful thinking, but I’m an older guy and sometimes do need ‘em, so I went to my local drug store and purchased a fresh supply of ‘Viagra’ – so, I’m ready, God willing, at any time – with ‘Viagra’ as my back up. Or maybe, so to speak, my ‘front’ up.
Liking my hair a bit on the long side, but not wanting to appear shabby, thinking, so it won’t look too fresh, I got a haircut in the last week of September.
Los Angeles International Airport
10/19/98
8:45 AM PST
Feeling excitement! Feeling love! Feeling wanted by a new woman!
Also... Feeling anxiety because if – God willing – we are naked together, from my neck up, for my age I’m okay, good in fact. Although the flesh beneath my chin could use some tightening and I’m good from my waist down, although – even after loosing ten pounds – two or three inches less around my middle would be nice, and, with the help of my little blue pills – this truly a ‘man’ thing – I should have no problem with the sight of, or use of my dick.
From my neck down and my waist up however, really, Arnold Schwarzenegger I’m not. But in the immortal words of ‘Popeye the Sailor Man’: “I yam what I yam!”
However... Thoughts swirling, swirling:
Did I possibly misread all the signals I thought she sent?
When Barbara sees me in person will she be disappointed?
When Barbara sees me for the first time is she going to think
this is a mistake?
When Barbara sees me for the first time is she going to think, ‘He’s an old man?’
Emails aside, does Barbara truly, really think of us as platonic?
When people see us together are they going to think I’m her
father?
Do I tell her I love her?
Do I pretend to be platonic?
What do I do when I meet her? Do I take her hand? Do I kiss her? Do I even touch her?
Do I even want to touch her?
Oh, my GOD!
****
Ding...ding...ding
Looking up, I see the ‘Fasten seat belt’ sign had gone on.
Looking through the rain streaked window, the sky was heavily overcast and though the plane was descending, I could see nothing but gray below.
***
Wanting to appear a bit more youthful, but not wanting to appear as though I was trying to appear a bit more youthful; wearing sharply pressed designer jeans, a designer label chambray shirt and a dark blue, lightweight cashmere sport jacket, my one overloaded suitcase, that I’d been able to shove in the overhead compartment in hand.
Not knowing what to expect, and in either case having not the slightest idea how to react, walking down the slight ramp into the crowded ‘Arrivals’ area...
Standing a few moments, looking about a few moments..
Looking in my direction, our eyes touching…
Wearing light blue slacks and a dark blue jacket, maybe 5’ 3” or 5’ 4”, approaching me, the moderately heavy-set woman has short cut, dark brown hair and, coming closer, I see light brown eyes and a round, somewhat attractive face.
But she is too young to be my Barbara. But she’s smiling at me and before I can look over my shoulder to see if the smile is for me or someone else, for someone behind me...
Without hesitation, the woman’s arms are about my neck and her mouth is on my mouth and the kiss I am receiving is the kiss of long lost lovers and, leaning into the kiss, the suitcase dropped, my arms now about the juncture of her well defined waist, feeling the press of her ample breasts upon my chest, tasting the fresh taste of her mouth, my tongue touching her tongue.
Sanding in the midst of the crowded ‘United Airlines Arrival Terminal’ kissing this woman held tightly in my arms…
Fuck ‘em if they think I’m her father!
Barbara! I didn’t want to let go of my Barbara.
Next, GON #6: Allerton Hotel
