Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace in General

Busy weekend. I was supposed to go flying on Saturday. Some confusion texting with the instructor and I was at base ops at 8AM. Looking at the wind sock, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I went to the FBO front desk and asked if they could tell me the components.

22 knot direct crosswind. Yep. I should have just stayed in bed and slept late.

Earl arrived and we had a session, which would have been called a “chalk talk” in the Navy.

Next try is Wednesday. The weather is just not cooperating. I sent a text to Earl asking to set up Friday as a follow-on/backup to Wednesday.

I had planned to take a nap after flying so I would be as fresh as a daisy to head for the Old Port.

I never took that nap.

Finally I took a shower and got dressed to meet Glenn at the bank, and we made our way to Portland.

After some travelling we chose to celebrate the woman’s day march by going to PT’s. Maine’s only “Gentleman’s Club.”

It was a good three hours.

I told myself I would spend no more than 50 bucks.

Best laid plans and all.

Ivy.

I had also said I would not be going into the lap dance room. We hadn’t been there more than five minutes before a long tall drink of water sauntered over, sat down beside me and threw her legs over mine.

“What do you think of my lotion?”

“Um. Smells good?”

“No. Feel.”

I have never in my life felt skin than smooth and buttery over muscles.

I said “I thought we were not supposed to touch.”

She blew my mind.

“It is my body. I get to decide. Do you want a dance?”

And down the rabbit hole I went.

She was very tall by Maine standards. 5‘8”. In heels she was face to face with me and that almost never happens. Before we made it to the lap dance room I hadn’t really noticed how beautiful her face was.

And stupid shit comes out of my mouth. “Oh my God, you are gorgeous.”

A half hour later she is on stage. She climbs the pole like a monkey and hangs out in the rafters. She slides half way down the pole and using two hands hangs horizontally from the pole.

There isn’t one man in a thousand that could do that.

Mya

After our little session, Ivy asked if she could come keep me company later. She never did. I know it is a transaction in establishments like that.

Next thing I know Mya is in my lap. And she talks me into the back room.

Beautiful, beautiful Eurasian girl. Same perfect, smooth buttery skin. Incredible hugger. The last ten minutes we just hugged. She nuzzled up against my neck. I held her shoulder blades.

I know. It was just a transaction. But I was reminded what just holding someone felt like.

It was very sweet.

She gave me good dreams.

That place is not a good hobby. It is expensive diversion. But it served its purpose.

People I’ve loved
I have no regrets
Some I remember
Some I forget
Some of them living
Some of them dead

All I want is to be home

-Foo Fighters, “Home”

Last updated January 24, 2018