I’m at the club. It’s the big lesbian night hosted once a month at Traxx in Denver. My friends have just left and I’m holding a spot just off the dance floor where I can see the fun, young Go-Go dancers and do some serious people watching… It’s crowded. Everyone has to bump and brush against you as they move around the club. There’s a few very attractive women.. One in particular.. Trim, tall, straight white teeth, long, thick, curly black hair halfway down her back.. She passes me and comes back.. Says “Wow! You’re hot!”
and she wants my number. But I’m on my way out. I can’t find paper. The bar napkins are black. I fish out a five dollar bill I had in my pocket and scribble my number on it. Before I give it to her, I have a few questions.. One of them.. “What do you like to do for fun?”
Her: “Uhhhh… Hike?”
Uh oh…. Strike one. Maybe she’s just shy.
She looks delicious when I see her waiting outside the restaurant. She’s wearing tight jeans, she’s tall in her high heels and a tight fitting vest with collared blouse. Long sleeves. The weather is pleasant.. Low 70’s… the windows are rolled down in my enormous white diesel truck. I wave and smile as I rumble by her. I have to find parking for this beast somewhere.. and I’m starving.
We sit at the bar, she tells me she likes tuna and California rolls… And that I should order.
I have a mean streak.
She’s still telling me she likes tuna, so I think… We’re on a date, right?
It is on the outside edge of appropriateness, given she’s been touching my leg and thigh so much, I decide its ok to feed her a piece of fish.
I chopstick up a beautiful piece of carefully prepared maguro tuna and put it in her very hesitant mouth..
I pick up another piece for myself and pop it in.. As I savor my slice, I watch her face go from apprehension to dismay.. As she forces herself to chew and swallow the tuna she has professed to like…
“n-no.. no. I um.. don’t think so.” with a small, but vigorous shake of her head.
I am curious about this gal… She still wants to hang out with me… Why?
We make another attempt. We will ride my motorcycle together at gay pride. Dykes on bikes.. Right before the event, my friend texts me.
“Is her name—— ?”
Yes, I say.
Strike three. She’s a tornado. I know if there is that much rubble behind someone, it’s not going to be any better because of me.
I actually feel a little shitty now, but I have to bail out on our next date.. I’ve been in the tornado before.. I can’t do this to myself again…. Not even if it’s exciting. Not even if I might be making a mistake.
I shut her down.
She’s hurt, I’m free, and my life gets down the road. Literally.
I’m heading to Omaha, Nebraska now. I’m in my RV. It’s a giant toyhauler. I load up my motorcycle and the rest of my life. I don’t go quickly in it… I had a tire blowout in Nevada a couple weeks ago, I think the other ones are ready to go… I haven’t protected them from the sun like I should.
Flying here is completely out of the question. It’s flat. No tows, no mountains, not even a decent hill to be seen… This cannot be my home.
I am here because I’m starting a new career that allows me to continue to work in my field while taking better care of my body and having some financial security… I will be better able to manage my retirement plans. I am on the safety/ regulatory side of the house now. As well, it is my understanding that the ability to take time off is generous.
I have to dig out some clothes from the camper that may be suitable to wear in an office.
It’s more like an exploratory excavation.