The idea for this came to me while writing "'Professional' Women," posted in the category "Reviews & Essays." You don't have to read it, just know that "Randy" is real person, a friend of mine whom I have included in this story. Randy - a telling alias - and I had a few trips together, mentioned in that review. This fictional story lets us have a lot more fun than on any of those trips.
After Randy's suggestions about another trip together, we agreed to go to Burma. His travel bureau found one for us, just a small group, but that was good, letting the two of us not be dominated by a larger group.
We all met in the airport in Bangkok: three couples, a single man, two women and us, plus our European tour guide. We were immediately on a first-name basis, not usual for a group of Europeans.
People who choose to go to Burma have taken tours to other exotic places, as had Randy and I. We had been on tours where less experienced travelers had complained that everything wasn't like back home. Our group proved very compatible in that regard, others mentioning that they knew that our trip could be a little adventurous, all of us agreeing.
We flew to Rangoon and were taken to our hotel, joined by a Burmese guide. Randy and I had single rooms, the two women shared a room. At dinner, we all introduced ourselves further, confirming our expectations that we all had experience with this kind of tour. Two of the couples discovered that they could have met in Egypt. The other couple countered with where it had been. had been, but Randy and I had also been there, all chuckling that tours took people to see the same things. The single man, was reticent, just nodding. The two women joined in the conversation, when they could tell that they had also visited the one or other country mentioned.
The next day, we toured Rangoon, in the evening sharing our experiences in the large market, where we had gone our own ways. When our guide suggest that we have a drink in the famous old colonial hotel, we all agreed. Randy insisted on paying for all our drinks, a gesture that welded the group together. It was promising to be a very good trip, one without a wet blanket, even when we learned that the two women were school teachers.
School teachers on such trips have the reputation for second guessing the guide on every point, having read not only the guidebook but also everything else they could find about the country. There was an old joke in our common language: what is the difference between the Lord God and a school teacher? The Lord God is omniscient; a school teacher is a know-it-all, "knows it all better" in the language. Our school teachers weren't like that β to our general relief.
The next day, we set off in a mini-bus, listening to our guides' explanations. That evening, we couldn't all sit together, Randy and I sat with Marie and Anna, the teachers. The single man had chosen to sit with one of the couples.
Randy and I were pleased that the women seemed to enjoy our company, although we were graying, older than they were, but also not so young. Remarks about their trips together, suggested that they were both over forty, maybe closer to fifty. If so, they were still ten years younger than us. When they asked about us, Randy shaved a few years off about how long we knew each other. I recognized that there could be some discrepancies from what we had already told, but Marie and Anna didn't pick up on them.
After dinner, we were all sitting together in the lounge with another drink, talking about what we had seen, just mild confirmations that we had all read our guidebooks.
The next evening in the next hotel, we sat with them again, now more familiar β and drinking a little more. It had been a long day, and the others murmured about going to bed and did, leaving the four of us alone. When Randy suggested another round of drinks, Marie and Anna agreed. We drank. They glanced at each other. One of them shrugged slightly and said:
"If you're wondering, we always share a room together."
"Of course," I replied: "to avoid the surcharge for a single room."
"Of course," the other one agreed, the other one nodding, but smirking slightly.
Randy caught her expression, before I did, and smiled, replying:
"If you know each other for so long."
"We do, since teachers college."
"Nice," I remarked. The other one β Marie β looked a little embarrassed.
Anna glance at her and shrugged slightly with the hint of smile, and murmured:
"Yes, nice, why we like our trips together."
Marie nodded involuntarily, wrinkling her nose. Marie wrinkled hers, but smiled at us, then remarking:
"Guess you know what we mean, but we're not just like that."
Marie quickly took a better drink, and we all did. Marie stilled looked a little discomforted at the turn of the conversation. Randy smiled and replied:
"We aren't either, if that is what you were thinking."
The women both shook their heads with grins, and we all drank again, then exchanging, sharing wry grins. We emptied out glasses. When Randy held his up with a questioning expression, we all nodded, chuckling softly, and another round was served.
We all had a sip, exchanging glances β with raised eyebrows. We sipped again. The bartender was wiping up, putting away glasses. The women glanced at each other. They shrugged slightly, wobbling their heads questioningly. Then Anna remarked:
"He wants to go to bed. Maybe we can finish our drinks in our room."
Then Randy and I had to shrug, but we immediately nodded with what I hoped were just smiles of agreement, not smirks. The women nodded with smiles and we stood up. I called for the drinks to be put on my room number, and we left the bar.
On the way to their room, I had to wonder if this was the first time they had invited men on a trip to join them. Despite Marie's initial reactions, she had had no problem with Anna's suggestion. Was her suggestion everything that it could mean? Had one or the other of them given us better smile? I hadn't noticed, and I didn't care; both of them were equally attractive - to a man my age. More attractive than my wife - or Randy's? But they weren't here, had always refused to join our trips together.
We were in their room: two beds, only two chairs. When Anna turned on a bedside lamp, Marie turned off the overhead light. Did her turning off the light only suggest that it was too bright? Anna, already between the beds, sat down on one, patting it next to her. Randy joined her, sitting closer than I would have. I waited for Marie to sit down facing them and then also sat down. We raised our glasses and had a sip, then smiling a little quizzically. Anna asked:
"What were we talking about?"
"You were saying that the bartender wanted to go to bed," Randy replied with a suppressed smirk. I, at least, recognized it as one.