Scrabble Story (written June 7, 2016)

We went to the pub to have a beer. As I opened the door, we saw a thug riled at the barkeep, insisting on rum for his companion, a nun. Rexes, a tsar from Texas, lay down on the lawn and said “Wow!” If I was sane, I would have left right then. 

The Jedi showed off judo moves and taught me the Art of Qi. My Qi was engaged and I felt as centered as 12 AM. The oak shaded the Mod, while he lit a roach; he gave the eye and said, “I’d offer you a tip. You’re Fine.” “Fa,” I replied; I didn’t give a flip what he thought as I walked across the lawn. The chef cooked beans on the stove and encouraged us to graze on Total cereal. The Mod picking lices from his pubic area was drole.

PS: Thanks to B. for the great Scrabble Game.

Cracked Ice - Part 10.5

“CRACKED ICE” by Leora Tozer © 2014 -Part 10.5 

Art’s two-toned cream-colored Caddy Roadster was idling outside the boarding house at 10pm. 

I was walking downstairs in a long peach-toned silk dress. Nellie was standing by the front door, and said to me, “Looks like someone’s waiting for you.” 

“Yes, but do you have a shawl I could borrow?” I asked. 

“Of course,” she answered, while holding up a colorful and beautifully embroidered silk shawl. 

“Thank you Nellie,” I smiled. “I’m not even sure where we’ll be going. Should I be nervous?” 

Nellie’s clear blue eyes twinkled slightly, “No, it seems like everything’s been going well for you so far.” 

“Thank you for the shawl. Off to a new adventure,” I said. 

“That’s right,” Nellie replied. “Embrace life.” 

I smiled, “And have a good evening.” 

“Thanks. You too, sweetie,” Nellie answered. 

I opened the front door and walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk. I watched my step and listened to the click-click of my Oxford shoes on the cement. As I walked closer to the car, I could feel a strange energy surround me for just a second. 

I looked up and smiled at the car. The passenger door popped open slightly. I caught the door handle and opened the door enough for me to slip into the car. Art had moved back to the driver’s side of the car, “Good evening.” 

“Thank you. Good evening to you,” I replied. “Am I appropriately dressed for tonight’s adventure?” 

“Yes,” Art smiled. “Perfect.” 

Since I’m not familiar with town, I didn’t recognize where we were going. However, it didn’t seem to take long to get to an area of town where a few bars and restaurants were open late. 

He parked the car, and we went into a small building with a brick façade. We went into the bar, and sat on bar stools. The bartender asked us what we wanted. I ordered an iced tea and Art ordered a ginger ale. 

One of the waitresses came in from the back room; she was tall, and as I looked more carefully, I realized she was a man dressed and made up like a woman. As she was waiting for the bartender to make up her orders, I asked her, “Your fingernails are beautiful. How did you get your nails done so precisely? I don’t have the patience to get the polish that smooth.” 

Art didn’t say anything, but I could see in my periphery that he looked momentarily surprised by my question. The waitress smiled, “Thank you. I have a few drinks to deliver, but in a bit I can show you a couple of makeup tricks.” 

“I could use the help,” I replied, smiling. “As you can see, I generally look like a ghost when I’m done putting on makeup.” 

After she left, Art looked at me carefully, “For a Benson, you’re full of surprises.” 

“And why’s that?” I asked. "Life’s a continuous gift as long as you keep an open mind.” 

“I know,” Art said. “But not everyone sees that.” 

“That’s true. They can miss a lot,” I answered. 

The waitress came back, took my arm, and told Art, “I’m temporarily borrowing your date.” 

Art grinned and tipped his hat, “No problem.” 

While Leora was gone, Art surveyed the place. It was a small room, with dark wood paneling. Drawings and small paintings dotted the walls. The bar was busy with only a few people standing and talking, but several waitresses with drink orders were coming in and out of the second room. 

“So what’s in the other room?” Art asked the bartender. 

The bartender smiled, “When your date comes back, you can go in and find out.” 

Judy led me to a small dressing room that the waitresses and other staff shared. I held out my hand, “By the way, my name’s Leora.” 

“Nice to meet you, Leora. I’m Judy,” the waitress said while shaking my hand. Judy and I sat down in chairs at a makeup table. Judy opened a drawer, and pulled out a kit with blush, eye makeup and lipstick. She also selected nail polishes, which were setting in the corner of the table. 

“We’ll do your nails first. Which color do you like?” Judy asked. 

“I like the mauve tones,” I answered. Judy and I talked while she worked on my fingernails, starting with my right hand. “What type of work do you do?” 

“I’m a secretary,” I replied. “The nail polish will probably get chipped up from typing tomorrow.” 

“We’ll apply a second coat and see if that will delay the chipping,” Judy suggested. Judy had me set my left hand on the table, so she could apply a first coat. 

I smiled and asked, “How long have you worked here?” 

“Not long,” Judy said. “I moved here from New York a few months ago, because I heard there are jobs here.” 

“That’s why I’m here temporarily,” I replied. “Thought I’d work in an office a short while and then go back home to the Midwest.” 

“So what’s your story with that sharp-dressed New Yorker you’re with,” Judy inquired with a smile. I smiled back, 

“Sorry to disappoint; not much of a story. He’s one of my bosses and he wanted to check out this place, and he thought I should tag along.” 

Judy looked thoughtful as she blew air onto my fingernails to dry the first coat. The polish changed from dark to light to shiny as they dried. 

“From what I’ve observed, people come to either find someone or to get to KNOW someone,” Judy stated. 

“Not to presume, but do some folks come to gawk out of curiosity?” I asked. “I mean, some people don’t see that we are all the same, so they think they are seeing something different.” 

“Oh, there are a few like that, but they don’t stay long. They get nervous,” Judy replied, with a wink and a smile. 

I giggled and smiled back, “I bet they do.” I looked down at my fingernails; with the second coat, they were perfect. 

Judy opened the makeup kit, and found blush for me. “Take off your glasses, Sweetie,” Judy said. I took off my glasses and set them on the table. Judy applied blush, lip and eye color while we talked. 

 “You know, if you get the chance tonight, you should kiss him,” Judy stated. 

I blushed slightly, “He’s been very kind ever since I started there. But that could get awkward with my other bosses. 

Judy asked, “Do they know you two are out tonight?” 

“Well, no,” I said. “I’m not saying anything. It would make one boss think I should go out with him and the third could feel jealous.” 

Judy asked, “Oh, you have three bosses? And are they in the picture business?” 

I smiled, “Sorry, I wouldn’t feel right answering that.” 

Judy replied, “Oh Sweetie, everything is private here. Otherwise, people wouldn’t come back.” 

“Well,” I stated, “You may have seen them in the movies.” 

“Sounds fair,” Judy said with a smile. “I’ve always heard the quiet one’s a real sweetie.” 

I had tried to watch Judy apply the makeup on me, but I got distracted by the conversation. 

Judy said, “There. What do you think?” 

I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt in awe; even though I’ve tried many times, I could never quite get it right. “Thank you Judy. I’ve never looked this put together before,” I said. 

“Glad you like it,” Judy said. “My dream is to get a job doing makeup.” 

I thought a moment, “Have you tried at the studios? Or is it hard to get a job there?” 

“I haven’t asked yet. Maybe with a bit more practice…” Judy said. 

“You have real talent,” I smiled. “After all, look at the magic you did with me.” I put my glasses back on. “Thank you. And trust your gifts.” I gave Judy a quick hug. 

“Now it’s time for you to take that handsome man dancing in the back room,” Judy suggested. 

We walked back out into the bar, where Art was waiting. Art smiled at Leora and teased Judy, “Where’d my date go? Did she sneak out the back?” 

I nudged his left arm playfully. “If I didn’t get scared off from Henry last week, what makes you think I’d run off tonight?” 

 It seemed like Art couldn’t quit looking at me. Meanwhile,Judy motioned to the other room, “Now you two go back there, enjoy the music and dance.” 

“I don’t remember how to dance. Can you show me?” I asked. 

Art asked, “How can you not remember?” 

“Too many years of not dancing,” I replied. 

“We need to correct that,” Art stated, taking my right elbow with his left hand and leading me down the small, dark hallway. 

I opened the door and the room was mostly dark, except for a small candle on each table and a lone spotlight on the small stage. The three piece jazz band was playing a fast song as we carefully walked into the room. Our eyes began to adjust and we noticed the doorman nodding to Art and pointing to an unoccupied table for us to sit down at. 

We quietly moved through the small room and sat down at the table. I slipped my shawl onto the back of the chair, while Art set his hat on the table. 

“The beat is too fast for me, at least to start out with,” I said. 

“The only way to learn is to start now,” Art replied and took my hand. 

We took a few steps to the small dance floor, and I followed his lead, taking a step or two with the music. He swung me around in a circle, and spun me back. Surprisingly, I kept on my feet during the dance, and we applauded when the band finished the song. 

As the band started a slower song, a female impersonator walked onto the stage. The singer sang a torch song about missing her man. Many more couples came onto the dance floor for the slow song. 

Art moved closer and gently put his right hand on my waist. With his left hand, he took my right hand; in his grasp, our fingers became entangled. I placed my left arm across his shoulder and my hand rested lightly on the back of his neck. 

We danced close, but our bodies were not quite touching. As the music infused the crowd, it was easy to sense love lost and unresolved longing from many. The fingers of my left hand began to trace soft circles on the back of his neck in time to the music. 

Usually I would watch the crowd, but I felt transfixed by Art’s eyes. I felt surprised by a sense of recognition within the deep recesses of my soul. Getting lost within his gaze, I felt something more, another stirring, more primal, more physical. 

As the band kept playing slow, sensual numbers, we kept dancing. My body felt so aware and awakened by each minute change in pressure from his fingertips on my waist and his hand squeezing mine. My body felt washed with longing and desire; I blocked other people’s emotions and realized I was feeling my own long repressed want. It had been so long since I had felt attracted to anyone. I was uncertain what I was feeling, until it hit me like a ton of bricks. 

As soon as a faster song started, we both stopped dancing. Art didn’t say a word; he kept hold of my hand. We went to the table and he picked up his hat, while I grabbed my shawl from the chair. He led me out of the club and we walked to his parked car. 

We were standing by the passenger door, and as he was reaching over to open the door for me, I kissed him, just one gentle kiss on the lips. He looked at me with such human hunger. I realized the music must have affected him too. 

I draped my arms around his neck and kissed him again, and stepped back. He stepped forward and took my face in his hands and kissed me back. We got as lost in the kisses as we had in the dancing. 

Time seemed to stand still as he leaned me against the side of the car while we kissed. My arms slipped around his neck; my body quaked against his. Every nerve ending in my body felt awakened and my fingers worked through his hair. 

After 15 minutes or so, Art pulled back and looked at me. I’m sure he could see the pure want in my eyes, since he whispered, “I should take you somewhere. But where?” 

He opened the passenger door. I crawled into the car, and opened the driver’s door from the inside. I leaned my stomach on the back of the car seat, looking out the back window. I felt keyed up from our kissing and wasn’t ready to sit down yet. 

Art slipped into the driver’s seat beside me. My eyes shined down at him with pure, innocent lust. He wrapped his arm around my waist and sat me down on his lap for a minute. His left thumb slowly caressed my cheek and jaw line. I softly sighed. 

 He whispered in my ear, “If I kiss you anymore, I won’t be able to drive home.” My body trembled slightly with his statement and with my lustful thoughts. 

I slid off of his lap, “The music and atmosphere must have influenced us too much.” 

 I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It felt like he did the same. When I opened my eyes, I smiled at him. “Thank you for taking me here this evening. I should go home.” 

He looked at me carefully, “Are you sure?”

 “Yes, it’s a work day tomorrow,” I stated. “Besides, don’t you have to rest for all the things you need to do tomorrow?” 

“You mean golf and a card game?” Art asked. 

He drove me back to the boarding house, and I thanked him again for taking me to the night club. Before I hopped out of the car, he held my left hand briefly. My eyes flashed another lustful look at him, and then I slipped out of his grasp without looking back. I knew if I looked back I’d be too tempted to slip back into his car and too soon into his bed.

Another Saturday Night

It was one of those rare nights for me. I decided to go out to see a local band at the bar in the nearby town. I’ve had others tell me I should see this band, as they write their own songs, as well as do covers. Of course, as usual during these times, I wandered out alone.

Walking across the parking lot, I saw that the lights were turned on the trees and slide. I stopped and took a couple of pictures with the camera I had in my pocket.

When I arrived the first set was nearly done. I went into the fairly empty room next to the main band room, and sat by the fireplace. I thought it might be a good place to sit a bit until the next set started. I wasn’t able to sit for 5 minutes before a group of 4 women at a nearby table decided I would be more useful to them by taking their picture in front of the fireplace instead of sitting there. After being told that I need to take their photo higher, because they’re so tall and statuesque, and then taking another photo or two with another camera, I was tempted to pull out my own camera and take a photo as well, but I thought better of it. I decided to wander back to the other room before they sent me off to fetch them some more drinks.

I found a place against the wall to stand, which was near the entry/exit for the room. Of course, there was an ebb and flow of traffic, and at times, I would press myself against the wall, in order not to get knocked over by unsteady patrons. Fairly soon, the band started again.

They were a fairly good band. They did quite a few Tom Petty songs, the Smithereens and it was fun to see the crowd get excited and sing along when they did one of their own numbers. I should add that the person singing lead of “Refuge” most likely did not know the words, as mainly the chorus was sung. Overall, it seemed like a good crowd, most people seemed to find others they knew, and it was just a regular small town bar on a Saturday night.

I was really having a good time, when suddenly I felt someone reach over and touch my right shoulder and ask, “Which of the band members do you have a crush on?” I look over to see an older fellow (who resembled one of my children’s TV Show hosts, Mr. Dressup). I shook his arm off of my back, shook my head and stated, “I hadn’t seen this band before.” He quickly asked, “Where are you from?” I quickly responded, “It doesn’t matter.” He asked again, and I walked off, tripping up the stairs to another part of the establishment.

[J. a F.T.: Since I don't go out on the bar scene much and am a bit odd, I need to ask, does this type of approach work for guys? Personally, I felt a bit put off by this person by how he approached me. Basically, all I know about him is: 1) he doesn’t respect a person's personal space. Why can’t guys understand that if you are invading my personal space before even saying “hello”, why would I presume you are a “nice guy”? The nice guys I know would never do that.]

I did need to go to the restroom anyways, so I stopped in there. While in a stall, I heard a young lady state, “This bank suuuucks!” and she began singing “Summer of 69” in a wonderful voice. Her friend and her discussed that all of the guys at the bar were married and decided that there wouldn’t be any young single guys at the other bar in town either. After her and her friend left, I wondered why she didn’t start her own band, since there are so many 80s songs that should be sung by a woman. [Think about it: wouldn’t “Little Red Corvette” make much more sense if a woman sang it?]

I did go back to listen to the last song or two of the set by the band, but I found myself looking around and not feeling very comfortable. I did see the elderly lecher one more time, but fortunately I was able to make myself invisible while he went upstairs. I debated staying for the last set, when I saw the elderly lecher sit at an empty table which had a view of the stairs to the room I was in and the main bar (where he was in). I decided it was time to go home.

So, I moved up the stairs, through the crowd and to the door, stopping briefly when the couple in front of me stopped in front of the door. She was adjusting and zipping her coat, while her man gingerly carried her large purse. He realized I was behind them and moved to the side; I thanked them, and left the building, walking on the parking lot to avoid all of the cigarette smoke from the smokers on the sidewalk.

The lights were turned off of the trees and ice slide. It felt a bit desolate without the lights. I was glad I took a picture when the string of lights on the path and the trees were on.

As I walked back to the car, I realized that I’m lucky I’m not going out every weekend trying to find a single guy. I feel very content living with me.