Like most of my stories, this one is based on "true events". Either I have lived it, talked with someone who did or met the characters and had them tell me of an experience of theirs. It's a lot of fun. Hope you enjoy.
Dirk Stimson
*****
Let's start with me. I'm forty four years old. My name is Dave Daniels. I am divorced with no children. I was vice president of a tech company that developed an application for the on-line dating business that we were able to sell for a lot of money.
Since I spent most of my time on the computer, often working from home in my shorts, my medieval parents never thought I worked. Well, not like my dad who had been a baker for thirty years.
I went to my parents' home after the sale was complete to share the good news. My dad said "Good - now, you gonna get a real job?"
That was when I felt it was time to leave Minnesota, its frigid winters and move to Florida. I now invest in start-ups and do some consulting. I had been a middle distance runner in college so since I was done with sixteen hour days, I took up running once again.
A good friend of mine called me one day to ask a favor. He was out of town for a couple of weeks and found a projector system he wanted on Craig's List. The lady that wanted to sell it was about twenty miles from my condo, but what the hell, Jerry was a bud and I sure had the time on my hands.
I called the number Jerry gave me and a lady with an accent answered. Now in Florida this is no big deal, but the accent we hear the most by far is Spanish - and this lady was no way Hispanic. Best bet? Eastern European.
I told her I could come by about eleven the next morning and got an okay, she would hold the projector.
I ran my five mile route in the morning - it was summer in Central Florida, best to have your running done before eight AM. Had a couple of conference calls. I plugged the address she had given me in my iPhone and found it was in Wedgefield Estates. Why is every development in Central Florida "Estates" or "Reserves" when most of the homes are under two thousand feet and have garages stuffed with everything except cars?
It had not yet hit ninety degrees, so I put the top down on the Porsche (fruits of the sale) and headed into the country. The drive was pleasant, and Wedgefield Estates turned out to be this kind of bucolic development with unimaginative homes on large lots.
There were mostly middle class cars and some large tractor sections of a tractor trailer, indicating a long distance trucker lived there.
Three turns brought me to an attractive home without a pink flamingo in the front yard, some toys on the small front steps and a four door Honda in the driveway. The door was answered by a rather heavy set woman with large breasts, beautiful green eyes and thick chestnut hair cut short.
She was wearing a rather tight short sleeved tee shirt with "Space Coast" on the front and shorts that showed sturdy legs, a bit thicker than they should have been. "Mister Daniels? Please come in."
Polish? Russian? Had to be. "Yes ma'am. Tanya?"
She broke into a huge smile that lit her whole face and showed very white teeth behind some full lips. "Yes, Tanya."
She waved me into a small living room where two girls somewhere between three and five stared at me with huge eyes. "Girls!" She said sharply, followed by a string of words that definitely sounded Russian to me.
They took off giggling past a small dining room into a large space I guess you could call a "Great Room" with white sofas and chairs - not a good idea I thought, with two youngsters in the house.
She turned on a huge flat screen television, must have been at least sixty two inches and the girls sat down - much too close, I thought - to watch some cartoon stuff.
She led me back into the dining room and lifted what I guessed was the projector on the table. She pulled up a laptop and gave me a quick demo of the projector. It flashed a large picture on the opposite wall and seemed to be in working order.
Just then the front doorbell rang. "Must be Alina," she said and went to the door. I turned my head and there was a younger looking woman, I'd say middle thirties.
She brought Alina to the dining room and introduced me. Alina was smaller and shorter than Tanya. She had blonde hair down to her shoulders and a loose fitting v-necked short sleeved shirt. She too wore shorts but her legs were just terrific. Okay, I'm a boob guy, but I couldn't tell much about Alina; the shirt was too loose fitting.
Alina leaned against the opening to the great room while Tanya and I finished up the business with the projector. I put it back in the box and slid it across the table to pick it up.
"You are runner?" Tanya suddenly asked.
I realized I was wearing a tee shirt from my running group, The Track Shack Runners. "Oh, yeah, I answered. It's the group I run with. We do some races, but mostly just like to run roads and trails."
Alina stood away from the wall. "You look in good shape."
I picked up the box, getting ready to leave. "Well, yeah, I try. Running, I find is the best thing for your heart, your weight control - almost everything, if you do it right."
Tanya spoke up. "I always want to learn to run. But I have no breath." Okay, so here was a subject about which I was pretty much an evangelist. I put the box back down on the dining room table.
"Tanya, that is what comes as you get better at it. Look there are a few simple things I can show you and you can take it from there - if you are really interested."
"Oh - I would love to. I was once small girl -believe me or not, in Russia.
"
"Oh, I can believe that. You know, you are still a beautiful woman, but with a few less pounds..."
Alina broke into a tinkling giggle. "A few less? Not enough. No way."
I felt this strange need to come to Tanya's defense. "Look, ladies. It is not an overnight thing. You have to stay with it. But Tanya, you will be incredible if you have the patience."
She stood up. She was a good three inches taller than me. "These," she said, pushing her breasts up, "were once beautiful. But after two kids and American food..."
"And they can be again. Can I ask how old you are?"
"Forty one."
"Oh God, lady - you could be as you were. Promise." I had to throw a dig at Alina. "And you too, Alina - you better watch your shape."
"I would like to exercise," she said in a small voice.
I turned back to Tanya. "What about your husband? Does he work out?"
She laughed a hearty laugh. "Peter is in Poland for a month on business. No, he makes me look skinny. Okay, Mr. Daniels, what do I do to start?"
By now the kids were running around the great room and it was getting loud.
"Well..." I started.
Tanya held up a hand. "Alina" - followed by a stream of Russian. Alina nodded and went into the great room to restore order.
"Mr. Daniels,"
