Another night alone in his hotel room, Roger picked up the latest issue of Maximum PC to get some reading done. As an IT guy he needed to stay on top of the newest technology. "I know what I'd really like to stay on top of," he thought and then blushed. His mind had been full of the woman he met last month.
Eleanor was an old college friend of one of his coworkers from home. "She's really nice and wouldn't mind showing you around New York while you're there," Sam had told him. Nice was the kiss of death, a not so subtle code for fat or ugly. "And she has a nice rack," Sam had to throw that last part in. Now Roger was sure she was fat. But he was going to be in New York for 6 months and didn't know a soul. He agreed to meet with Eleanor since all he needed was a tour guide. He already had a girlfriend.
Roger had been dating Angela for about a year. She was nice (kiss of death), a little older than he, but nice. They didn't have much in common. He was a computer nerd who went to sci-fi conventions and she was a data entry operator who had never seen an episode of Star Trek before they met. What they lacked in conversation, they made up for with sex. With Roger on the road so much they silently agreed that whenever they did see each other they didn't waste time on small talk. Lately, they hadn't spent much time on foreplay either. Roger knew they were just going through the motions. And still, he was starting to contemplate marrying Angela.
He was getting old, almost 40. Most of his friends were married and settled down. Settled down, that's a clever double entente. Most people seem to accept less than they want just so they don't end up alone. He was starting to understand why. At least Angela was nice, boring but nice. But she wasn't Eleanor.
It took a week for them to find an evening when they could meet. Roger waited patiently at the bar of a restaurant recommended by the hotel concierge. He texted the address to Eleanor who wrote back that she was running a little late but would get there. He was on his second martini when he looked over at the entrance to see a woman walk in. Bundled up against the January cold, Roger could still make out a small frame and a pretty face behind the puffy brown coat and wool scarf. He was actually relieved to see that she didn't fit the "nice" stereotype.
"You must be Roger," Eleanor addressed him, proffering her gloved hand.
"Yes," Roger stammered, "how did you know?"
"Sam sent me a picture of you so I could find you in New York," she said as she pulled up a chair next to him and signaled to the bartender.
She began unwrapping herself while she waited for her drink. Roger took a few surreptitious glances to assess the situation. At 5'6" with an athletic figure, Eleanor was not unattractive. Her clothes were rather plain, jeans and an oversized sweater, not doing much to accentuate her features. Roger wondered if Sam had been lying about the rack.
"So, how are you holding up alone in the big city?" Eleanor got the ball rolling on the small talk
"Oh, it's getting better," he replied. In a short time Roger realized that he was conversing quite freely and casually with Eleanor. It seems that they were both big fans of science fiction books and movies. They even had a long, heated debate on the merits of Captain Kirk versus Captain Picard as the best Star Trek captain ever.
Slowly, Roger began to realize something. He had never had such an easy time talking to a woman before. And she even liked the same geeky things he did. He was so relaxed he even told her how shocked he was that he was so relaxed. She threw her head back when she laughed, releasing the most splendid, warm sound Roger had ever heard.
"You need to get out more," she said. From anyone else Roger would have been offended but he knew she was only teasing him. He began to look more closely at her face. Her alabaster skin seemed flawless even sitting this close. She wore no make up. And her eyes changed color from deep blue to steely grey almost at random. She wore a green scarf around her head but one brown curl had escaped near her right ear. Roger resisted the urge to touch that curl which stood so dark against her perfect skin. He couldn't help but wonder what her hair really looked like.
They met again a few days later and hit the Museum of Natural History, upping Eleanor's geek "cred" status even higher. Seeing her in the daylight, Roger was struck again by her perfect skin and changing eyes. Still, her hair was tied up in a scarf.
"I'm having a bad hair month," Eleanor joked when he asked about it. Roger found it intriguing.
They had met up several times over the month for dinner or a movie or a quick lunch in the afternoon. The last time they met, they ended up in his hotel room watching Heroes on TV and eating the complimentary chocolate they left on his pillow each day. Each time he saw her he became more enthralled. He didn't know what it was that he found so attractive about her. She didn't wear make up, her clothes were neither tight nor revealing, and she still had her hair bound up. But her eyes sparkled and her hands danced while she spoke. She was so animate in everything she did that he couldn't help but watch her. Even during the show, he found himself watching her instead of the TV. The simple way she slid a piece of chocolate into her mouth, first rubbing it on her lower lip then gently nibbling a corner, was riveting. He had never met anyone so sure, so truly themselves before. She was breathtaking. Seeing her so at ease, Roger decided that tonight would be the night he kissed her.
Eleanor always hugged him goodbye when she left. In her enthusiastic manner, she pressed her body against his as if it were the most natural thing. Her arms were strong as she pulled him close. And just as Roger relaxed into her embrace, she would break off and bound away with a wave and a smile. Tonight, instead of letting her go, Roger was determined to take control of the situation. He would let her start the hug and immediately kiss her. Yes, damn it, that's what he would do.
But something happened. When she went to hug him, it wasn't her usual embrace. With no coat on, she reached around his waste to pull him in close to her. He could feel her breasts sliding against his chest through the thin layers of their shirts, her hands sliding up his back. He froze, realizing simultaneously that this hug was different and that he had a hard on. Suddenly he didn't know what to do. He wanted to kiss her, and unless he was completely misreading this, she wanted the same thing. He debated with himself if he should hug her back or just move in for the kiss. He was still debating when her mouth found his and the gentlest kiss was planted there. Her second caress came quickly on the heels of the first, this time with more force. She brought her hand around to his head to steady him there while her tongue began to probe his lips.
In a state of complete panic, Roger didn't react. It was as if he were watching himself on TV. His mind was screaming, "Open your mouth, you idiot," but his body was stone deaf to his pleas. Eleanor pulled away from him, not having gotten the response she hoped for. She graciously smiled, said goodbye and headed out the door.
Roger stood in shock for a full two minutes. "What just happened here?" He said this out loud to the empty room. She hugged him, then kissed him, and he... stood perfectly still. And then he let her walk out. What the fuck was that? He had to fix this.
He spent the next 2 hours trying to compose an email to explain what happened. He eventually settled on explaining that he's not good with women, that he finds her attractive and he just froze and please forgive him, and blah blah blah. It had a tone of desperation but he decided that that would just have to do, since he was, in fact, desperate to fix this.
She didn't respond.
He tried calling her but only got her voice mail. He couldn't think of anything to say so he just hung up.
Now a week had passed ad Roger was certain that he blew it. Eleanor wasn't going to speak to him again let alone kiss him after his reaction. He couldn't blame her. If he'd kissed her and she completely didn't respond he would be so hurt. It's so hard to pluck up the courage to show your feelings like that. And he just let her leave.
So Roger resigned himself to his fate: alone in a hotel room with nothing but the Info Porn column in Wired for company. He'll be going home in a few days. His house will be there. Angela will be there. That will help put thoughts of Eleanor out of his mind. Roger fell asleep hoping that would be true.
