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Jan 2, 2004 I walked slowly from the plane to the waiting area, being passed even by the flight attendants as I savored the moment. I was going to see my picture come alive, hear the voice from visible lips, smell the smell of Mona. Intoxicating stuff! In the distance, I saw a large helium balloon. It was the only one, so I knew if I made my way towards the balloon, towards the terminals, she would be there. I walked through the milling crowd until I caught my first glimpse of Mona. I was fascinated and kept my eyes upon her while my feet suddenly found their own mind and stopped on their own. I have terrific long distance sight, by the way. She had not spotted me yet and was hopefully scanning the crowd for “Radar”. At first, I think it was disbelief that kept me immobilized. Perhaps confusion was involved as well. Could there be any way to get back on the plane and ask them to kindly keep me until I could exchange my ticket for an earlier return trip? Might I simply melt into the crowd and sneak away, finding something else of interest to do for the weekend? The reason for my predicament was the woman holding the balloon. She looked nothing like I had expected and certainly not like the picture I had been memorizing. Even from a distance I could see someone who bore a strong resemblance to my grandmother, who was a very sweet woman and also a very large one. But, no, it had to be a mistake. This woman was taking her place because she was delayed. Or perhaps it was a woman holding a balloon for someone else and Mona was simply late? I had to address the issue! I walked straight toward the balloon guardian to find out what was what. I used to enjoy watching episodes of the Twilight Zone and observe people caught up in situations they could never have anticipated. Rod Serling loved themes involving nuclear holocaust or alien invasions but still people reacted as they will, with all the fear and greed and love and honor that their character would normally produce. As I approached Mona I saw, to my horror, that she did resemble the photograph in a bizarre way. Someone had aged her another ten or fifteen years and added another hundred pounds to the person I expected to meet. Meanwhile Mona saw and recognized me and began to wave as I approached. I received her hug and deflected the possibility of a kiss and entered into my own personal Twilight Zone episode. My parents raised me to be a gentleman. I could have been rude and even hostile in the light of her subterfuge, for the picture she sent me was either one of a younger sister or one taken of her many, many years ago. But I chose to be kind and exchange small talk as we went to obtain my luggage. I was able to use phrases like “worn out from the trip” to keep the conversation from going to the places she obviously would take it as we did the luggage- long walk-car thing and drove off into the night. Mona had obtained a motel room for me and I mentioned that of course I would wind up paying for it. She had already planned an excursion to Disneyworld for the next day and although I had already been to Disneyland it seemed like a safe thing to spend most of the next day doing so and I agreed. THE ROOM It was one of those older motels shaped like a “U”, all ground-level rooms with the parking space right in front of the door. The interior was typical of 50’s or early 60’s construction with cracks in the ceiling and corners of the room a sign that remodeling would be necessary sooner rather than later. I took refuge in the remarkably small bathroom and wondered how quickly and painlessly I could shoo Mona away. But when I emerged from the bathroom, Mona already had her shoes off and was lying on one of the two beds in the room and her reaction upon seeing me was to spread her arms in a “c’mere baby” gesture. I came over and sat on the opposite bed. “Mona, sometimes when you meet someone you just know that there is a spark between the two of you. Chemistry is a funny thing. We seemed to have it over the phone and we decided that when we met we would find out whether it was the real deal.” “Maybe you should get over here and kiss me and find out…” She purred. I was determined not to bring up the fact that she had deceived me and that her picture was the equivalent of a lie. I really didn’t want to be unkind. “No, I knew that when we met I could tell right then. You are either really attracted to someone or you are not. I’m afraid that I am just not attracted to you and there isn’t any hope for a relationship for us. I’m very sorry for both of us, but that is the way it is.” I thought she might get angry, or perhaps become tearful. But she was more like the Monster in an old thriller who takes every bullet from your revolver right in the chest and keeps coming as you find your feet glued to the floor…and you scream and try to run but… “I’m going to make love to you like you never had it before. I can’t wait any longer. Come on over here and Mona will give you what you need and then we can talk about chemistry. C’mon!” She was licking her lips and beginning to rub her left hand over her body. In a moment of clarity I realized that she must have reserved the room for two, hence the double bed! Her plan was to take advantage of the great likelihood that having gone two years or so without sex I would be horny. Being far from home and in a room with a wanton woman, I would give in and then she would have at least made a landing on the beachhead of a relationship with me. The Monster was still coming and I was out of bullets. Where was I to run??? To be continued tomorrow. ------------ About the author: Kimbal Ross Binder is a husband of one wife and parent of six child units of various sizes. He is a tennis bum, karaoke singer, punster and a reformed liberal who now admires Rush Limbaugh and hates to miss Fox News in the evening. You can pass along plaudits and invectives to: radarbinder@comcast.net Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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