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Missed Opportunities

Fenster

To know then, what I know now ....

Years ago, two work friends and I met at a restaurant for dinner, then carpooled to a club.

I had a fantastically beautiful blonde dancing for me. She had smooth, perfect skin, and tiny, perfectly formed boobs. Well, 'boobs' might be the wrong word. How about 'titlets'.

She wore a seashell top. But it was observed that it was more like 'A-Shells' (rather than C-Shells).

About 1:30, she said to me (in front of my friends), "So - are we gonna party?"

In my youthful naivete, I assumed she meant 'are we going to go to and after-hours club and dance the night away?" (Because, I hadn't given her any reason to think that I had coke, so, what else could there be?)

I thought that I would have had to force my friends to leave immediately, depriving them of the last half-hour of our guys-night-out, so that I could maybe be back by closing time to pick her up. I couldn't do that to my cohorts, so I made some excuse not to meet up with her later.

I don't remember if it was that night, or a subsequent visit, when she gave me a club business card, with her phone number and real name written on it. (Her real name was a common one, but misspelled. So, her mom was stupid, too.)

She was 20, with two kids. She lamented that her baby-daddy wouldn't marry her, so fuck him ....)

We planned to go to lunch one Sunday afternoon. A buddy who was dating a dancer (and was there the night I met her) told me that, according to his girlfriend, this was most likely a 'business lunch', where there's nothing going on but stringing me along for future club visits. He was surprised when I told him that she gave me her address so I could pick her up, because, according to his inside source, such 'business lunches' involve meeting at a restaurant. So this was encouraging.

I get to her apartment complex, spot her apartment number, and look for a parking space. She must have been looking out the window, because as I was parking, she walked out to meet me. I assumed that she just didn't want me to see inside her apartment, or didn't want someone insde her apartment to see me.

We went to a nearby mall, and chose a Tex-Mex place. When I was with her in the club (a few times), I really enjoyed talking with her. But, being with her in the outside 'blue-sky' world, in daylight (she was still beautiful, and physically flawless), there was no connection. I could barely choke down my food, and had it taken away nearly untouched.

I didn't take her out again. But, I did see her occasionally at the club. Until it burned down, anyway.

A few years later, I saw her at another club. All the topless clubs closed at 2:00 a.m., but the one local nudie bar closed at 4:00 a.m. on weekends, so dancers getting off work Friday and Saturday night would go there to spend the money they just earned, one dollar at a time.

Another dancer said something about getting busy with her, and I pulled her aside and asked "waitaminnit - is she into girls, or guys!?" I found out that it was just talk, that she liked sausage still just as much as when she got knocked up, twice, at such a young age.

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Years later, I had an epiphany. That night we met, she didn't want to go out partying, she was already whoring herself out. And offering herself to me. At that point, I could've spent a couple hundred on dances, but spending a couple hundred to bang a stranger for a few minutes was outside my lexicon.

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To know then, what I know now ....