Monday, September 9, 2013



Damn I gonna miss that girl.  I kind of fell in with her by just a fluke of damn luck.  She was dancing at a piss ant dive strip club just outside of Denver by about twenty miles out on a piece of black top that only people that don’t want to run the main roads use.  Fucking place was a fall down drunk joint; not in any city limits, out too many miles on a road to nowhere for the County Deputies to care to drive out to unless forced by a worthless fight call.  Dudes were passed out on the freaking floor and it was only ten o’clock.  The parking lot looked like a cheap ass “junk yard” car lot; cash sales only with no refunds.  Every car in the parking lot was at least fifteen years old with fenders dented on every corner and some along the sides.  What a junk yard; the clientele had to be a bunch of losers, druggies that must have been turned lose by their fat old ladies with heads full of curlers or so dope sick they couldn’t make it down to the dive or just paroled looking for a drink and a fight, kicked loose from a seedy trailer park or the County lock up.  About every fifth running wreck was a old but nice pickup; even with the dents, the kind that screams “Red Neck” right down to the gun rack in the back window; a couple even sported old mangy dogs sitting dead bored in the bed of the trucks.

I’d just come across the State of Kansas, what a fucking place.  I’d been told it was flat as a pancake, but that was a hell of an understatement.  Four hundred miles on my tired old oil smoking Plymouth road runners’ speedo; two quarts of oil every fill up whether she needed it or not; blue cloud of burnt oil followed us everywhere we went.
Another three hours across some god forsaken State my eyes were straining just to see the white line.  The night sky was lit with banks of neon lights; they covered every inch of the tar paper building I could see up a head on the two lane highway.  I’d seen those types of joints before and they begged “come on in, have a couple a beers, there’s titties to be seen”.  I pulled into the dirt parking lot leaving a plum of dust in the air so high and wide that the next four cars wouldn’t be able to see the neon until they were already passed; pulled right up to the front door and it occurred to me that I’d just driven into the sixties like on an ol’ Twilight zone TV show.  If I was a little smarter I’d a backed out and kept going until morning; driving until finding the next Texaco station where I might just be able to score another six pack of Bud and a fresh pack of smokes before they cancel my card.

Good sense was not on the menu so parking next to one of the better looking wreaks; I jumped out and headed for what I expected to be a real let down.  At the front door was a bouncer; fat fuck, crew cut and over the hill in his early twenties, that looked to be about a decade and a half ago.  Fat fuck said “$10 cover charge” and put up a full ham sized arm towards my chest to stop my advance.  I kept on going until his hand was on my chest and pushed him back a full step.  Again he said “$10 cover charge” in his “I’m so fucking fat and scared shitless someone will call me out voice” I looked down at his hand and he quickly pulled it off my jean jacket; my favorite jean jacket.  I looked him in the eye and said “I’m with the band”.  “$10 cover charge” he said softly for the third time.  I looked at him with my “Are you fucking kidding me look” closed the distance he made with his retreating step.  Face flushing and taking but another step backward he wasn’t happy with my aggressive manner and in his face attitude; we were now inside the joint and the music was obviously from a cheap recording and crap speakers that must have come from one of the dollar stores.  “$10 fucking bucks to cover the band fuck face” I growled in his fat face so close my lips brushed his like a soft kiss.  He jerked back and I walked around him into the stinking nasty assed dive; it was smaller than it looked from the outside.  There were maybe ten tables spread around the square building and six rickety stools at the shabby dirty bar.  The place smelled of old beer and older barf with a twist of body odor thrown in; made you breath short shallow breaths through your nose so you wouldn’t get any in your mouth.  The floor was uneven; boards warped, cracked with golf ball sized holes every foot or so.  It came to mind; “I wonder how a couple of these fat ass losers made in here without going right through the floor”.  There was a spot light shining on one giant round ball hanging from the ceiling looking like it was going to drop like a stone and kill someone at any moment; it must have been four feet across.  It was made up of broken mirror pieces glued on some sort of round; something? It was hanging in the center of what was supposed to be a dance floor; luckily they had high ceilings or the girls would have to dance around the stupid thing.  The dance floor was a half circle and only about ten feet around.  It was raised three feet above the main floor of the bar; broken linoleum tiles and some kind of patch material was all twisted and uneven as much as two inches from one spot to the next.  The thought of seeing one of the girls do a spectacular naked spread eagle fall entered my mind and I dismissed it with a quick smile and a shake of the head; I have crazy thoughts some times, funny ones but crazy.

I took a seat next to the junky dance floor still thinking about a spread eagle fall into my arms when the barmaid that had to be in her sixties asked me what my pleasure was.  I smiled my biggest shitty grin and said “Oh I think you know” followed by a twisted toothy grin.  That was all it took and she was all smiles and gushing friendly, I’d just made her day.  “I’ll just take a Bud; no glass needed” With a wink she was off.
My Bud was back in a flash and I asked her when the floor show was going to start.  “Bout ten minutes or so” was the answer with a toothy grin and a slight toss of what had to be the most dyed hair in America.  She bent over the little table showing every inch of wilted tits that were so over the hill that the hill couldn’t be seen in the rear view mirror.  I gave her a little nod and dismissed her; her reply was a deep huff with twisting her wrinkled lined mouth into what use to work as a pout; she was off like a rocket.

Ten minutes turned into twenty and finally the music picked up a notch or two and the drunks all started to clap and shout; even woke a couple up from the floor.  Five minutes later just as I was beginning to think that no one was going to come out; I about shit myself sitting right there in my hard ass seat with my warm and almost empty Bud in one curled fist; out comes one of the most beautiful women I think I’d ever seen.  I damn near pissed myself right then and there.  She was about five ten, tits hard as rocks that had to be “C’s” if not bigger and the thinnest waist under those big bad girls I’d seen in years.  Thank god no cheap costume was hiding her stomach, those abs; six pack going on a short case.  Thighs that a body builder would have been proud of; lines of muscles rippling under tanned perfect skin.  Toned calves; triceps that had to be gym built; biceps that were groomed to perfection if not a little large for a medium sized woman born and raised in heaven.  Her hair was nearly white it was so blond, free flowing well past the middle of her back; thick like a thatched roof.  My face ached from the stupid smile on my face.  A hard punch in the shoulder brought me back to the moment; did I want another Bud?  Oh hell yes, yes, yes, yes; another huff was all I noticed as my eyes were glued on what had just walked into my life.

The goddess on the raised floor above me swayed, twisted and spun; high kicks showing flexibility was just one of the many talents she possessed.  Her movements to the shit music straining from dollar store speakers was probably the best I’d ever seen; smooth, sensuous, perfect.  “Perfection of movement and rhythm” was what my brain was saying.  Perfect smile; teeth so white that the flashing light from the spot light off the mirror ball reflected blinding white light from her teeth into my eyes.  Eyes an incredible deep sea blue.  Why were my eyes watering so? I was in the presents of an angle from heaven and my mind was not thinking pure thoughts as the front of my pants would attest too.  In an instant her bit was up and she left the floor as quickly as she had appeared. I found myself standing at the edge of the dilapidated stage, it was all I could do not to jump up on the stage and follow her like a moth to a flame.

 Somehow another Bud had appeared in my fist and was almost gone; magic. 

I sat there stunned for more than just a few minutes without noticing that another dancer had taken the stage and was trying to get someone to realize she was working her ass off spinning, kicking, grinding it out just trying to get noticed.  I wasn’t the only hard dicked patron in this shit hole sitting there with glazed over eyes, dizzy light headed from what we’d just been blessed to see; it sure wasn’t the beer and a half I’d drank or even the joint that was smoked out on the road.

I left a twenty on the table and started looking for a way into the back rooms where I had to find my angel.  Off to the right side of the bar were the doors going to the shitter’s, Men’s or Women’s; hidden off to the left of the opening was a single recessed door with peeling paint that at some point in the last millennium looked to be red.  It had an “Authorized Person’s Only” sign hanging by a bent nail on the upper half of the door.  It was leaning heavily to the left since someone hadn’t even put the single nail in the center of the sign.  My heart was pounding as I twisted the knob and found it to be unlocked.  I stepped through the door into a dark hallway that had maybe six doors on both sides of the hall.  I silently closed the door on its rusted hinges without a squeak of protest and put my ear to the first of four doors without hearing a sound coming from inside.  The fifth door on the right I could hear the faint movements of a person and gently knocked.  I small sweet woman’s voice called in response “come in” I opened the door and looked straight into a mirror against the wall no more than six feet away.  The reflection was that of my angel from heaven in body powder and nothing else.  She was pulling her blond wig off and didn’t act as though she even knew I was there staring at her naked reflection in the mirror.  She made no move to cover up, only turned and said “Oh…. I saw you in the audience…. Did you like my performance?”  “I loved it” I croaked; somehow the sight of her perfect breasts and body had taken the air from the room.  She wasn’t blond, but strawberry blond and the carpet matched the curtains perfectly.  The color was more strawberry than blond but not to the point you’d call her a red head.  She was breath taking even in the foul dim single sixty watt light bulb over the dressing room mirror.

I finally realized I was standing in her dressing room where I wasn’t supposed to be with a raging hard on and she being completely naked; I realized the weirdness and said “I’m sorry my name is David and I just wanted to talk to you after the incredible performance you just did” She waved a arm dismissing my compliment, making her right breast raise and bounce with the jester.  “Yes, you are David from Chicago…. I’ve been waiting for you” With that announcement her nipples raised to full erection; she didn’t seem to notice.

“They call me Rose that is the name that I use here I have no other I know”.  She made another dismissive wave and turned back to the mirror again working on wiping clean the makeup from her gorgeous face.  As the colors came off her incredible beauty increased.  The makeup was covering and taking away from her natural beauty.  I stood transfixed by the sheer beauty that was before me, she was becoming more breath taking by the minute. 

“How do you know that I’m from Chicago”  “I just came into this crap bar less than an hour ago”.  Another dismissive wave sent chills up my back as I again watched her breast make its journey up and back to the natural position. 

“I’ve been waiting for you David of Chicago”  “I need a ride to my people, will you take me there David of Chicago?”  What do you say to the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever laid eyes on and she asks you five minutes after meeting her to give her a ride; plus that is the direction you’re going anyway? 

‘Ummmmm……… Of course”…

She had her bag packed; one small suitcase that was no larger than the standard airline carry on.  She finished cleaning the paint off her face and tossed all her make up; which wasn’t much, into the suit case with a click she shut it and headed out the door.

“Wait; don’t you have to get your check or something from dancing” as I raced to catch up.  She’d already made it down the dark hall and was going through the “Authorized Persons Only” door.  She spoke over her shoulder not slowing down “Nope, my time here is over and my debt is paid.”  Across the bar room floor with a wave to the bar tender and past the fat assed bouncer with no more than a slight wave of her hand.  Standing just outside the shit house door of the tavern slash strip club she surveyed the parking lot as though she would know which my ride was. 

To my dwindling surprise she walked to the passenger side of my Road runner and waited for me to open the door for her.  I wiped the surprised look off my face and opened the door for her; as she got in she said “We need to go West, David of Chicago” 

I got in the driver’s seat and leaving a cloud of blue oil smoke and dust in the air; we headed West through Colorado towards Idaho; she was asleep within two minutes and laid her head against my shoulder.  Her strawberry blond hair covered her face but the slow delicate breaths told me she was fast asleep.

Two hours later and a hundred and fifty miles later she woke and told me she had to be at the meeting place no later than June 21th the summer solaces; and fell instantly back to sleep.  At dinner our first night I asked her where we were going and she handed me a satellite photo of the Middle Sister Mountain in the Cascade Range in Oregon.  We had two full weeks to get there.  That was all the information I was going to get; she changed the subject, gave half answers and laughed when I asked her for more detail on why she had to be at the Mountain on the summer solaces.
Our time passed in a flash; traveling, eating, sleeping and making love every night.  I fell completely in love with my Rose.  After the first day I didn’t ask any more questions; I was so mesmerized by Rose anything she asked or said was taken as a fact.

June 21st came to us as we were making love; wrapped in twisted sheets of the Best Western in Sister’s Oregon.  It was a small resort town with too many gift shops to count.  We woke at 8:00am the morning of the summer solace.  Rose was wired higher than a kite; there was no comforting her and the thought of calming her down was not an option.  She rushed me into the Plymouth and off we went towards the Mountains.  She sat in the passenger seat with her legs crossed up in the seat.  The only thing holding her in the seat was the shoulder strap.  Her eyes were closed and she directed me left or right as we came to cross roads.  We left the black top and headed higher on gravel and then dirt roads.  Dirt roads turned into logging tracks which the Roadrunner just couldn’t make up.  This didn’t faze Rose; she just instructed to back up and go right at the bottom of the road; all the time never opening her eyes.  After several miss turns and logging roads she suddenly said “Stop; this is as close as we can make it.”  She leaned across the seat and gave me a long hard kiss on the lips.  “Good bye David of Chicago, I will see you again and we will be lovers once again for ever.”  She reached into the back seat, grabbed her small luggage and out the door she slid.  “I will see you again; David of Chicago; I will send you a message when I’m coming back”  Without a second look she was gone into the brush of the Middle Sister of the Cascade Range.

I’m telling this story now because today in the mail I received a postcard with a strawberry colored rose on the front and a message that read “Tomorrow David of Chicago, June 21st the summer solaces, I will see you then.” Signed “Rose”

I’ve waited forty seven years for my Rose to return.  I can’t wait to see her.

From the Ramblings

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