Late one night while I was scanning through online sites. I decided to try something different. Instead of choosing from the people who contacted me, I decided to do a little online shopping myself. I began with location. I chose to stick with a two-hour radius of where I live. Then I tapped into my audacious spirit and sent winks and notes and flirts and everything. On more than one profile. Leaving me lots of possibilities. Can we ever have too many possibilities?
He was the first to reply. I was drawn to several things on his profile.. first, he had posted a picture. His picture was different from many.. he wasn’t standing next to his Harley, he wasn’t holding a fish, and he wasn’t standing topless in front of his bathroom mirror holding his cellphone as he took his own picture. His picture is a very handsome one. He’s wearing a suit and tie. His full silver and black head of hair is well coiffed. And he’s intense but smiling with his head cocked slightly.
Online I think people present who they’d like to be. I liked what I was seeing. To him, his appearance matters. He knows how to present himself in an appealing way. He’s well-educated. I recognize the name of the schools that he’s attended. Impressive. And finally, his byline intrigues me. “Voyeur”. I’m curious.
You see, for him, it’s all about the mystery. The intrigue of the information he can piece together. He creates a vision in his mind. Real or unreal. Truth or fiction. He gathers data and uses it to paint a landscape. Through our conversations he gathers tidbits and creates a beautiful and bountiful banquet with which to satisfy his hunger. I already know even before our first meeting that this connection will not grow to become the love of my life. Yet, he’s a very intelligent and interesting man. I’d like to know more. It’s sort of like watching a Sherlock Holmes movie. Excitement, intrigue, mystery. Always explainable at the end. But right now, the adventure, the mystery is only beginning.
The setting: A spring evening in Minneapolis. Sherlock has sent me a poem that he’s written… ‘Counting The Hours’. An excerpt of his poem…
(“Counting the hours, til we are together
Counting the hours, til you smile at me, for me and because of me
Counting the hours, til I can look at you with my eager eyes
Counting the hours, til every moment we share is special, until we have to be somewhere else.”)
I printed his poem on feathered light blue paper and rolled it into a scroll. I inserted it into a key chain with his initial. A large shining silver “S”. A gift to make the evening memorable. I want to be memorable.
I secretly planned our initial meeting. Sherlock secretly planned dinner. Bit and pieces we have both gathered from our conversations are about to culminate into an evening never to be forgotten.
I arrived at my hotel at 3:30 p.m.. I got my room key and walked through the expansive lobby with a baby grand piano at one end and a sitting area that faces a large private garden. Once inside my room, with a deep breath I unpacked. No time to waste. I have much to prepare. I laid out my clothes for dinner across the bottom of the bed. I quickly gathered the poem in the key chain and went back to the desk. I share with the two desk clerks, Amy and Jennifer, that I am to be meeting a man for the first time this evening. That we’ll be going for dinner and that it’s an adventure. I asked for their help. With smiles, they both agree. I hand Amy the poem and key chain as I explain that I will have him ask for me at the desk. They can have him wait in the seating area facing the garden. That way I can sneak down the hallway and get a glimpse of him before I make my entrance. Both girls are smiling from ear to ear as I go over the details. I thank them and proceed to my room.
Sherlock had given me the name of two hotels to choose from.. one near where we’ll have dinner. The other, the one I’ve chosen, is part of his fantasy. Every day at work he looks out his window and sees this hotel. He daydreams that his lover is there waiting for him. Today.. I am here waiting for him. I text him with the name of the hotel I chose and the time he should arrive.
He replies, “Excellent.”
I have an hour. I shower, primp, dry, fluff, dab, blot, spray and spritz.
Then I receive a text… “On my way.”
I alert Amy and Jennifer that he’s on his way. I could hear them smiling.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock. (Waiting.. my favorite.)
The phone rings… it’s Amy.
“He’s here… I gave him the key chain and the poem. He smiled. But..” ( She had apprehension in her voice.)
She continued, “There were some ladies sitting where you wanted him to sit.. so I had him go over to another area. But he’ll see you as you come down the hallway from there.”
Drats! Plan B
Amy added, “If you go up the stairway to the left of your room, and then take the elevator down.. he won’t be able to see you til you want him to.”
She deserves a promotion..to Consierge.
I feel nervous.. my stomach is fluttering. My hands begin to feel cold and damp. (Geez… get a grip!)
I grabbed my coat and purse.. and out the door. To the left. Up the stairs. Down the hall. Push the down button for the elevator. Push 1. Down we go. Deep breath. Doors open. I sneak out of the elevator. Amy casually points toward a very tall man in a suit coat sitting in a chair facing my hallway. I walk slowly, gathering one more deep breath, and a smile. (It’s in his poem.) Sherlock turns toward me…
Stay tuned for Scene 2
Props for Scene 2: Rubber Mallet, Shovel, Spurs, Emergency Sex Button, College of St. Catherine, Gargoyles and Knockers.