t was a cold, crisp evening and my thigh high boots clip-clopped along the pavement as I walked. I pulled the thick, long coat tighter around me to try and keep out the worst of the weather. I was on my way to see my Dolly date "boyfriend" at his suburban Minneapolis house. Downtown was fine in Minneapolis in the chill weather, all the major convention hotels and buildings are connected by walk-way bridges to protect business people (and their mistresses!) from the elements. But now I was making a house call, (which shows you how many times we'd been together and how deeply our trust had been built, for me to make a house call), and there was a chill breeze. I had the thought, "this isn't even Minneapolis, this is Mendota. Mendota Minnesota. Heck, this is really a suburb of St. Paul, not really Minneapolis". Then I thought of the warm beach and island trips I've shared with Mark. That's my guy's name. Mark. Minnesota Mark.
His wife was away at her parents in Palm Springs so he had invited me for dinner and a night of domestic bliss. "Mark, I'm very concerned for your protection and mine, leaving evidence..." I began, but he had answered my concerns on the phone. "Dolly, you remember that threesome we shared with Alyssa, the escort from here who I was introducing to the scene in Miami?" Sure I did. Alyssa was attractive in the "oh she's having an affair? No surprise, look at her, I'd fuck her, too" sort of a way if you saw her and heard the whispering at the country club or dinner party. "Yes, I remember her, you damn near fucked her bareback until I grabbed your dick while it was on the way into her and reminded you. I swear, you've never been that eager with me. Should I have been jealous? But what about Alyssa -- wait, you've had a threesome with Alyssa and your wife? Holy shit, Mark!"
Mark started laughing. "No, Dolly. Alyssa is my wife!" He's been holding out on me! "For real?" "Yep." Oh this fine fuck of a lover just got so much hotter. Can't believe he hadn't shared this info. I'd even scouted her on-line profiles. She was really nice, too, and Mark is giving me really generous presents in envelopes when he has her for a wife. I was sooooo, going to fuck the shit out of him! Dinner and a night alone with Mark at his house suddenly sounded like heaven. I couldn't wait.
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"You look way too beautiful to be standing in the Sky Harbor cab line."
The stranger who said that to me had passed by on the sidewalk and then backed up to say that directly while looking at me and smiling. After a long flight, and in my "traveling, dressed down" mode, with no makeup, a tee shirt, some athletic capri-length pants, sneakers and a pony tail, I didn't feel beautiful. So I blushed, accepted the compliment, and said, "well, thank you, if you're talking to me." A regular Dolly date friend of mine had invited me to share a week of warm weather and pampering while he got in some golf while escaping from a New York winter. I was looking forward to checking in at the Camelback Spa and Resort in Scottsdale. An extra compliment along the way always make the day better.
"Where in Phoenix are you headed? There are other options beside cabs. And I'm Kevin." He extended his hand. Awfully forward, full of confidence. Confidence is sexy. He looked to be sixty or so, a bit of middle aged spread, had lost a lot of hair over his years but a nice tan on the top of his well-kept head and a still-dark shade of gray for the remaining hair. Maybe 5'10". Golf slacks, and a custom embroidered golf shirt with the name of a company I'd never heard of. I was in public, security around, I decided to be polite. "Dolly," I responded, and shook his hand. He took his time in letting go. "Scottsdale. Vacation. My fiancé is joining me but he took the next flight, so I'd rather get there and lay by the pool than sit in a terminal." Okay, the "fiancé" part wasn't true, but the rest had its basis in truth, and it let him know that I had a man and that I wasn't traveling alone or available for a hook up. At least, not that week, anyway. *Wink.
"Camelback or Omni Montelucia?" Kevin asked. I guess that was a compliment, assuming my destination was one of the high-end properties. They're down the street from each other on Lincoln, as it happens. Have had marvelous extended Dolly dates at each location. "Camelback," I answered. Why did I answer that? He was clean shaven, hazel eyes. I knew why I answered. It was the eyes. He had nice eyes, the kind that draw you in.
Kevin pointed to a black town car and uniformed driver in the next lane. "I'm headed to the Omni, let me please save you from a cabbie taking you on an expensive, unnecessary detour on the interstate when its faster on state roads and surface streets."
"I don't know you."
"I understand, but I'm not abducting you, the car and driver will take you to your location first. Oh wait, here..." he reached into his pocket, removed a wallet, and just when I thought I was going to receive a business card, he instead handed me his driver’s license. "There, now you know everything about me, you can take a picture, send it to your fiancé and let him know if he doesn't hear back from you in twenty minutes he should send the police to find me. I'm harmless. You're just too pretty to ride these cabs, I'm telling you."
Excusing the downgrade from beautiful to pretty, which I'm pretty sure he didn't realize (but I did; women always do, guys, just so you know), I was flattered by his energy and the attention got to me, and since I had the goods on him, via the driver’s license with the Monte Sereno, California address, I decided to take him up on the offer of a free ride in style.
He grabbed my duffle for me, but a couple seconds later the driver materialized by his side and took it from him, while handing me the limo company's card. I'd seen the company's name on previous dates in the Phoenix area, so I felt secure I had made a safe decision, though I don't recommend these tactics to just anyone. Beside, I'd taken the pepper spray out of my checked bag and it was in an outer pocket of my bag. I have tested my "quick draw", and have the ability to pepper spray a trouble maker in just a couple seconds, maybe less if the adrenaline kicks in.
During the ride, Kevin's eyes were all over me, but in a fan-boy sort of a way, not in a creepy manner. "You really look familiar,” he said, and but I told him I was sure we hadn't met. "Are you maybe a physique or bikini fitness competitor, my company sponsors the South Bay Classic in San Jose each year?" I told him no, but given the implied compliment, I volunteered that I've done marathons and triathlons, and asked if he did anything in that field. "Me? No, no, it’s all I can do to walk the seven thousand yards of the golf course. Ride a bit of stationary bike while watching Bloomberg in the pre-dawn hours."
I explained I no longer competed, and then his eyes got wide and I swear I saw the light bulb turn on above his head. "Dolly. Dolly Jewel? That story on Yahoo Sports just ahead of the Hawaii Ironman a few years ago, about you deciding to discontinue competitive events, and it called you maybe the fittest woman in the southeast and how you'd done it all with a career and children, too. That's where I know you from."
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-- Modified on 5/17/2016 3:23:57 PM
