Cricket’s Hearth

 Passion: A One Night Stand

Three months prior to my 39^th birthday, I was sharing the woes of my love life with a very wise and close friend. I had been married for over 22 years and my divorce had only been final a few months. “What you need is a one-night stand!” she very expertly advised. I didn’t know if I could do this . . . I mean, actually getting naked with someone I did not know???

I should tell you that I was not a total prude. I was a flower child from the 60’s after all – the sex, drugs and rock & roll generation. An early marriage at 16 is testimony to my being “open” to the physical side of life. Plus, the fact I married the most degenerate of all sexual degenerates had afforded me enough sexual knowledge for a definite best-seller. And, I still think my ex sold copy writes to the producers of Bob & Carol and Ted & Alice. But, even with all this experience, under my belt so to speak, I was not too sure about doing “it” with a total stranger. But then . . .

I had an early morning conference in Columbus, which I was not overly excited about attending, and which also required spending the night before to avoid the rush hour mayhem. I asked my friend Evelyn, the wise one, to go along so at least a night in the city wouldn’t be a total waste. We arrived early and of course hit the malls. After several hours of shopping, we went to our hotel and got settled in. We decided a visit to the hotel lounge would be a nice start to the evening’s entertainment.

Why is that two women sitting at a table in a lounge, obviously having a lively conversation while sharing a few drinks, is a sign that male attention is needed? It must be an unwritten law of the testosterone universe. Anyways, there we were, enjoying our drinks when two average looking guys decided they would come to our rescue. They brought copies of our drinks as a peace offering, along with the line, “Have we seen you ladies in here before?” After a few more drinks and dinner, at our gentlemen caller’s request and expense, the wise one and I had to make a visit to the Ladies Room. “This is your chance for true passion!” she advised me, “Sex with no strings, no commitments, no I’ll call you’s. Just pure passion!”

I will have to admit my conversation with Jim-Bob (I still can’t remember his name) had begun to get heated. It seems he was a big-wig in some regional union organization in town for a convention, a Democrat, and a draft-dodger; needless to say, not exactly the endearing qualities I was looking for in a man. But then, I reminded myself, you are not looking for a man, just a one-night stand. And, through my alcohol-enhanced vision, he was beginning to look pretty good. So, wise one and I stumbled our way back to the table and, after another drink or two, I gave Jim-Bob the signal this was going to be his lucky night.   

Once in his hotel room, what I had envisioned as an evening of unbridled passion turned out to be ten minutes of wham-bam-thank-you-mam followed by an awkward silence that I had never known before, or since. After more minutes than it took to do “it”, Jim-Bob finally broke the ice by asking me what I did for a living (obviously he forgot the details of our previous three-hour conversation). This actually led to further conversation so interesting that I had forgotten we were both still naked under the sheets.

At some point, Jim-Bob asked me what kind of books I liked to read. Now, having gained a sense of comfortableness, I leaned over the side of the bed to get a cigarette out of my purse and propped myself up on my elbows so I could smoke. “I like to read most anything.” I began, and we discussed several books we had both read. “But I must say, my very favorite are books on serial killers.” I did not notice Jim-Bob had made a slight move away from me as I continued talking about Ted Bundy and then the Michigan murders, adding that though it was rare, there were female serial killers. “I keep thinking if I read enough books about serial killers, I will be able to figure out what would motivate someone to kill a complete stranger. Do you ever think about that?” I asked as I looked in his direction while moving my arm below the edge of the bed to put my cigarette out in the ashtray sitting on the floor.

Now let me tell you, after his performance an hour earlier, I did not think it was possible for Jim-Bob to move any faster, but he proved me wrong. He was up and out of that bed so fast he stumbled and fell to the floor. “Is this where you pull a knife or gun out of that purse and kill me?” he cried as he pulled himself up and backed into the corner. I was so stunned by his reaction to a simple question, it took me a few seconds to put it all together, especially since he was standing there, with all his manhood standing at full attention, visibly shaking down to the last bone in his body. Once the implications of my reading preferences finally registered, given the circumstance of our meeting and our current locale, I burst into uncontrollable laughter. I laughed so hard I cried, rolling back and forth on the bed, and ended up running to the bathroom to keep from peeing the bed.

After I gained control of both my laughter and bodily functions, I had to walk out and face this nameless man, in my nakedness I might add, who thought it possible I was a serial killer stalking unsuspecting horny men in hotel bars. I have often wondered how he tells this story. I can tell you, it did indeed turn out to be his lucky night, and passion is definitely in his version!

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I hope you have enjoyed my entry to Sunday Scribblings prompt, “Passion”. For more interesting takes on “Passion”, please check out any of the following:

~ lissa ~ Linda Jacobs ~ AscenderRisesAbove ~ Caroline ~ Colleen ~ anno ~ tumblewords ~