Birthday Money

It is my birthday. I remember when I used to love this day. When I was kid, I couldn't even imagine I'd live to 25, much less 50. Birthdays were exciting, anticipated, planned for, and enjoyed. Today, I wish it was any other day as long as it was before this one.

Oh, and it's fucking Wednesday. Even if I wanted to celebrate I'd have to be in bed by 11, or face the ordeal of nodding off in my office tomorrow. Worried that I was snoring loud enough my staff could hear me.

50, Goddamn 50. I shouldn't complain, I still have most of my hair, I'm in the best shape of my life, even if everything hurts the day before it rains. My dick works pretty well still, when my wife and I can find the time or desire. Even if it didn't, I've got some pills for that. When I tell one of the girls at work how old I am they always look surprised. It seems genuine.

Anyway, It's my fucking 50th birthday, and it's Wednesday. I'm sitting in a booth at the Olympus Diner. Alone, looking at what's left of Diana. That's the name of the omelet with basil leaves and feta in it. It's my twice a month escape from work mid-morning breakfast. I do it as a treat but usually leave feeling worse.

There is a new waitress today, her name tag says 'Cassy', but I don't assume that's her name. Sometimes the new girls wear derelict name tags for a while before Marta, the owner's wife, will make them a new one.

This Cassy is not a great waitress. I had ordered the Artemis, which is a Diana but with tomatoes. I told her no toast but there they were, charred and buttered triangles of gluten. Another reminder of my age. Fucking gluten. God I missed real toast. My cup was almost empty of cold black coffee, and she hadn't even bothered bringing water.

All that aside. She has nice tits. Just enough heft to bounce when she walks and still young enough to be winning against gravity. She was wearing her hair back in a ponytail and its auburn tip was long enough to dance between her shoulder blades. Her hips were wide and she's got great legs. Her little polyester uniform dress ending mid thigh did a great job of teasing me with a nice ass that never quite got uncovered, even when she leaned over to wipe down the booth across from me.

When she had pretended to write down my order I had enjoyed watching her mouth the words while she pantomimed using the little pencil. Her lips were full and glossed up. She was pretty, but the kind of pretty that started to fade after a while. Certainly working here. I guess it's what they call the 'beauty of youth'.

She dropped my bill on the table and encouraged me to have a nice day. She never quite made eye contact. Something else about being 50, women under 30 or so had stopped registering me as an individual. I had become a non-entity to the young. Hard to complain though, my wife told me that had started happening to her around 35.

I pull out my wallet and fish a twenty from it, that would cover my order and an unearned 30 percent tip. I see it in there, the birthday gift from my mother, a crisp $100 bill. I had given up begging her to stop giving me money on my birthday 20 years ago. Now at 72 she was still doing it. What an awkward gift. I don't really ever use cash anymore except for this diner.

What the hell, I throw it down on top of the $20 and head for the door. I walk fast so she won't catch me. Not that there's much chance of that. She ignored my table the whole time I was sitting there, no reason for her to pick up the pace now.

I start my car and put my seatbelt on. Through the windshield I can see Cassy step outside, the $100 in her hand. She can't see me with the sunlight hitting her in the face. I wait for her to go back inside and then pull out. Stupid impulse, it's not the first time I've done something without thinking and God knows it won't be the last.

...

Two weeks later, I'm sitting in my car realizing how stupid that tip was. Now I've made things weird, right? I do pretty good at work, but tipping out $100 every two weeks on a $14 bill isn't really in my budget. Whatever, she's probably been fired by now anyway.

No such luck. I see her the second I walk in. She's waiting on a couple of older guys. Everyone looks older to me nowadays, but these guys are all wearing hats from their navy days. Underneath those gold lettered hats, tufts of white hair and fuzzy ears. Certainly older than me.

Marta thankfully seats me in Carla's section. I like Carla. She's quick and funny, she calls me by my name. I know she's a single mom and she just turned 30. She sees me sit and grabs the coffee carafe before coming over.

"You want the Artemis today, Jack?"

I'm grateful for the familiarity and tell her I do.

I'm sipping my coffee and letting my mind wander to the rest of my week, when Cassy slides into the booth and sits across from me.

"You're the man that tipped me."

She's not sure, and it almost sounds like a question.

"Yeah, I'm the guy." I answered her.

She smiles at me and says,

"Well I just wanted to say thanks, that really helped me out. I didn't know how I was going to pay rent."

I put my hand up and palm out.

"I'm glad. I don't always tip like that, I was just feeling funny."

Cassy pursed her lips. Not really knowing how to respond. I tried to help her out.

"Yeah, I was a little depressed about turning 50 and thought I might do something to make somebody happy."

I expected her to go back to ignoring me but she didn't, she reached across the table and put her hand over mine.

"Yeah, birthdays are lame."

To my surprise she sat and talked with me for a while. She asked me about what I did for a living and I tried not to bore her with the gory details of being a sales manager. She stopped me,

"But, like, what do you do for fun?"

I thought about it for a minute. I used to do all sorts of things for fun. I used to go to shows, take road trips, I did some swing dancing classes once. Now I didn't do a whole lot. Except I liked to scuba dive.

"Wow, I've always wanted to do that."

I was happy to talk to somebody new about diving. My wife and friends had no real interest and always got that glazed over look whenever I talked about it too long. But, Cassy just listened to me. I told her about seeing sharks and hearing humpback whales, and she really just sat and listened. When I was winding down she said 'thanks'.

"Sorry to bore you." I tried to give her an out.

"Not at all, I think it's fascinating."

I took a look at her. She really was pretty cute. She didn't wear a ton of make-up, she had nice skin. Cassy had eyes the same bronze-brown as her hair. Her lips were pronounced and curled down at the edges. Looking at her lips I felt a stir in my jeans. That didn't happen very often. I leaned into the creaking vinyl of the booth and smiled at the girl. She smiled back at me.

I pull out my wallet and found a business card. I hand it over to her.

"If you ever want to check it out, I'm a dive guide, I'd be happy to get you started."

She reads the card and looks at me.

"Alright Jack. I might."

After that she got up from the booth and wished me a good day. Her hips swayed suggestively as she walked away. I wonder if she walked like that two weeks ago. I need to pay better attention.

Later on that evening while enjoying my third glass of whisky and watching a murder documentary with my wife, my phone pings.

I look down and see an unknown number has texted me. Opening it up I read it,

'Jack it's me Cassy from Olympus have you ever been to the aquarium?'

I text her back.

'Hi Cassy. Yes I have been there a few times.'

She replies,

'Cool I was there today and there was a scuba guy in the tank with the sharks'

And then,

'ScARY!' followed by a couple of emojis.

I send her a smiley face and hope that is that. I put her in my contacts and set the phone down.

Looking over at my wife, I see she has long since fallen asleep. I give her a little poke and when she rouses I send her to bed. She is a good looking woman, just a year younger than me and fit. We both enjoy regular visits to the gym and it shows in her. A while back she stopped dying her hair. At first I embraced the gray and was very supportive. Lately though, I'd been wishing she'd go back to the blonde I had known since I was thirty. I kept it to myself though, it was ultimately her hair and if she wanted to go gray, my job was to tell her it looked good.

I finish my glass and rinse it in the kitchen sink. On my way to the bedroom I lock the doors and make sure the porch lights are on. I can see Ted and Steph across the street having a few friends over. I watch the party for a minute, trying to remember the last time we had people over.

...

When Friday rolls around, I find myself dreading the weekend. The long stretch of emptiness that I fill with TV, yardwork, and booze.

At home, my wife and I act out the same scene we play most nights. We talk about work, make plans to go to Costco, I make dinner, we eat in front of the TV, I drink whisky, she drinks red wine. Around eight my phone buzzes. It's Cassy.

'Jack totally random but can you give me a lift???

Car broke down and i'm stuck at the diner'

I type in the words 'No, sorry.'

I don't send it.

I stare at the phone for a full minute. Then I turn to my wife who has already started dozing off.

"Do you mind if I take off for a minute? Troy at the dive shop wants me to help him out?"

She looks over at me half awake.

"Sure, don't make any noise when you come back in. I'm going to bed."

15 minutes later I'm pulling up to the diner. Cassy comes out and jumps into my car. I notice she's changed from her work uniform into a pair of leggings and spaghetti strap tank top. The black lace of her bra peeks out from her thin shirt. She leans over and punches me in the arm.

"Thank you so much Jack. I know it was weird calling you but I couldn't think of anyone else, plus.. If you don't mind too much I need a favor."

I looked at her from the corner of my eye as I pulled out.

"I thought this was a favor."

She bites her lower lip and bats her eyes at me. If I had been anywhere near her age, she would have had me right there, but I wasn't.

"Well, see... It's my friend's birthday, and she's having a few people over and I sort of told her I could get us some alcohol."

I looked at her closely

"You're not 21? How old are you?"

Cassy pouts and puffs out her chest.

"I'm almost 20, you can say no. I'm sure I could find somebody else."

It has been a long time since a woman tried to manipulate me just on the basis of her looks and the needs of my penis. I was flattered.

"Naw, it's fine. I can do it."

She bounced in her seat.

"I knew you were cool."

Cool or not, Cassy gave me some directions, and then ignored me typing into her phone. A flurry of messages back and forth. Ostensibly about this old man she had tricked into buying her booze. I was beginning to feel a lot less cool.

In the parking lot of a package liquor store, we meet up with Cassy's friend. Her name is Anita and she is a long slim girl with waist length black hair. Anita hands me a list and then Venmo's me some money. I look at the list, it is mainly cheap and plentiful. A couple handles of vodka, gin, a little cheap Canadian whisky and a few cases of beer.

"Oh and rum, I love rum. Get the coconut kind." Cassy adds.

It takes me a minute to round up the supplies and load them into a cart. I'm feeling more and more foolish by the minute. I know that soon my humiliation will be over. Cassy and Anita will be long gone and I'll be home with a whisky in one hand and my dick in the other.

I help them load Anita's little Subaru and then wish them both a good night. I can see the two girls having an animated conversation. Cassy runs over to my car and knocks on the window.

"Do you want to come over and have a drink with us, for Anita's birthday?"

I pretend to think it over and then respond

"Naw, I should really get home."

She asked, I answered, letting the two girls off the hook. Except Cassy won't leave.

"Come on Jack, one drink with me."

She does that weird little dip, curtsey thing that girls do when they are pleading. It almost looks like she needs to pee.

"Alright. One. I'll follow you over." I give in.

But instead of returning to the Subaru she just turns and gives Anita a thumbs up and hops into my passenger seat. This is what it feels like to have a trap sprung on you. At least the cheese is nice to look at.

After a short ride we pulled up at a house. It's a suburban neighborhood, I know that this used to be railroad housing back in the day, little one and two bedroom cubes for guys who spent most of their time loading and unloading freight. Now the blocks had become popular with college students and artists. Little cafes and hip second hand stores littered the once blue collar neighborhood. I rented here when I was single, a lifetime ago.

"Just pull in behind her." Cassy gestures to Anitas car.

I park in the driveway and help the girls unload booze out of the car and into the tiny kitchen. It's cute, decorated with movie posters in french, and furnished with a table and chairs meant to look like they were built in the 50's. Except these were new. Everything that should have been metal was plastic.

Anita asks me to make a couple of drinks and I pour some vodka over ice and add some Cranberry-Grape juice I find in the fridge. The three of us toast each other and Cassy wishes her friend a happy birthday. The first of their guests walks through the kitchen door unannounced.

Cassy makes an effort to introduce me to her friends as they come in, but eventually we both get tired of it and I head outside hoping to finish my third cocktail and make an Irish exit. Out the kitchen door I notice a few more cars parked behind me in the driveway. It might be a while before I can go home. I wander to the backyard and find a sturdy plastic chair. I try to hide myself in the shadows.

Eventually I am surrounded by twenty-somethings and possibly younger. They are vaping and talking politics. I've never understood why a grown man wants to smell like a fruity cinnamon bun.

Cassy finds me trying to hide and pulls a chair up next to me.

"How are you holding up Jack?" She leans over and tries to catch my eye.

I lie

"I'm great, your friends are nice."

I gesture to the plastic cup in my hand.

"Just going to finish this and head home."

Cassy taps my cup with hers and we drink.

"So, what exactly do you do as a sales manager?"

I sigh,

"Mostly surf the web. Occasionally I have to step in and help massage a sale. I have a team that does most of the work I get to take credit for."

She stretches and I can't help but watch as her breasts strain to get free of her little tank top. She sees me looking and doesn't stop.

"What do you do? I mean when you're not at the diner?"

She sounds bored,

"Oh you know, I like to party, I like hiking, last month I went and rode side by sides with my family. That was pretty fun."

I try to find something to hold on to and respond with, I seem to have forgotten how to talk to younger women. I don't know when that skill left me but it's gone. I decide to be honest.

"I really feel out of place here."

Cassy leans over and puts a hand on my forearm. She gives it a squeeze and leaves her hand resting there. I can't remember the last time a strange woman had touched me like that. I start to feel slightly intoxicated.

"I like your arms."

She lets her fingers slide up and down from my elbow to my thumb. It might as well be from my lips to the tip of my penis, judging by how my body is reacting to her touch. I am starting to get a little scared of what I've gotten myself into.

"Thanks." Is all I can come up with.

Is this flirting? Is she flirting with me? Couldn't be. She's just waiting for me to try and kiss her or grab her tit. Then she can scream and embarrass me. Maybe have some of these young guys kick my ass for her.

Before I can steel myself to break this exotic contact, I look up. In the trees I see the familiar flash of red and blue lights. A young man bursts out the back door and yells,

"Cops."

Young adults start to scatter and head for the exits. I laugh to myself. I used to be afraid of cops too, but I haven't broken a law in forever.

A voice in my head whispers,

"Until tonight."

Holy shit. How against the law is it to buy alcohol for kids under 21? I turn to Cassy,

"Are any of these kids minors?"

She gets a worried look on her face.

"Yeah, most of them. Anita's little sister brought a bunch of her friends over. They're all in high school."

To her credit, she immediately recognizes the danger I'm in. She stands quickly and motions for me to follow. We head to the back fence of the yard and she gestures for me to make a stirrup with my hands. I do and hoist her up over the fence. Then with a little hop I make it over too.

Behind the house is a wooded area. We are standing on the edge of a tiny arroyo. I can hear the sound of running water from the blackness. Cassy takes my hand and using her phone to light the way, leads me down to a little creek.

At the water's edge she locates a little house. It's like a play house or a tree house, except it spans the six foot gap over the water. LIke a bridge.

The sounds of police radios echo through the little canyon. I can see beams of light sweeping the scrub oaks above us. Cassy opens a door and we climb into the little hut.

"This belongs to the neighbors, they built it for their kids."

I sit on the floor, I let my eyes adjust to the new dark. I think about how my car is at least 3 deep in that driveway. I think about my wife waking up and wondering where I am. My mind wanders back to Cassy and the way she touched my arm.

"We just need to wait a little. They won't come down here."

She crawls towards me and kisses me in the dark. Her lips are warm and wet. Her breath is humid and sweetened by coconut rum. I kiss her back, out of habit at first and then with the excitement of this new first kiss.

I need to say no, I must tell her stop. But I don't. I can't, because I don't want her to. I forget about leaving and put my arms around her and kiss her harder.

I can feel the gap between the hem of her shirt and leggings. I let my fingers slide across that hot pliant skin. She moans a little and I can feel her lips curl into a crooked smile with my mouth. I take the edge of that thin fabric and pull it up over her body. She leans back so I can bring the shirt over her head. She finds the clasp of her bra, nestled in between her breasts and snaps it open.

I slide the straps down her shoulders and watch her form in the red and blue lights as she tries to set the garment gingerly on the little play table next to us.

Silhouetted in the moonlight I trust my hands to find her body. Her breasts are taut and her flesh is springy. She sighs as my hands glaze over her nipples. I bring my mouth back to hers and we kiss.

I feel her hands work the buttons of my shirt and soon our flesh is pressed together. She squeezes the muscles of my shoulders and says,

"Nice."

I have to agree. I work out a lot and until now, seem to be the only one who appreciated the effort I put in to maintain my body.

I can feel the pinpoint of heat where her sex meets mine. She grinds into my dick and I feel like the skin of my cock is going to split with the blood filling it. It's been years since I felt this hard.

Cassy squirms and wriggles herself out of her pants. I try to keep up and soon my slacks are down around my ankles. If the cops show up I won't be able to run. I realize I don't care. She slides on top of me and her hot wet pussy envelops my cock.

She doesn't waste any time thrusting against me and soon she is frenzied. Her hands scratching at my chest, her mouth biting at my neck. I hold her hips and push up into her trying to match the crazy pace she is trying to set. She starts to cry out loudly,