2019
Upstate New York
Walking into the hotel I dressed in a red golf shirt and a pair of slacks. I pulled out my mobile device to review Marie's message again.
'Come to the hotel for 2100 hrs for a night of fun with some of my friends. Wear your Armani suit, don't run to the hotel. M.'
I did run to the hotel and I had my least favourite Armani inside a knapsack on my back. There was no way I'd pass up an opportunity for a run!
I also wasn't in the best of moods, time was running out on my contract in the area... I had yet to produce results. Although Marie had a reputation for throwing great parties, I however didn't have time for group sex... I had work to do.
The hotel had an odd lay out, there was a mini lobby at the front, with the elevators in the middle, the rest of the lobby and the front desk way at the back. Although it had a pleasant odour and was very tidy, it all reminded me of an old run down hotel we briefly occupied in Afghanistan.
I had done a few tours there with the Dutch Army, it felt so long ago, but when small things reminded me of those days it left me feeling as if I were still there. I shook my head, such thoughts were best saved for my runs.
I hugged the wall as I passed the elevators, then slowed down as I scanned the next room. Old instincts were always hard to give up.
I spotted Marie at the front desk with a black man in a white short sleeve with a black tie and a tall white woman with long black hair and giant gold hoop earrings. My timing was perfect.
Marie was a petite busty woman in her forties, I befriended her and her husband years ago and stayed tight since then. They were Mormon and poly, always an interesting combination.
The short black man and the taller white woman moved off as if to sit down as I approached. I tried to see his face... with no success. His hair was styled in a small afro. He appeared short to me; but being half Dutch meant that in my blood I had the DNA of the tallest people on earth.
"Hello Marie..." I said coldly putting a hand on her arm.
"Hello dear." She said with a smile, ignoring my foul mood. "Good to have you along."
"So Marie." Still feeling frustrated I asked. "If this is to be a group event, why didn't you use one of your other regulars? What do you need me for?"
"Cause some damn fool accused you of being the best." Came a deep voice from across the room.
The short black man approached me his face in the shadows. He had broad shoulders and thick arms. His skin was dark, much darker than my own, I'm a caramel brown, he was the colour of an expensive dark chocolate.
Exiting the shadows I saw his face! It was George! I had worked with him in Afghanistan at the same hotel this one reminded me of.
"George!" I cried out approaching him. "You son of a bitch!"
Our hands clasped in an overhaul grasp. We shot stern stares into each others eyes as we engaged in a mid air arm wrestle.
"What's the matter..." He teased as he increased his grip. "The bank got you pushing too many pencils."
His hand squeezed mine, I squeezed back even harder. George wasn't the sort of man you showed weakness too.
"Huh," I said acting uninterested. "Had enough?"
Marie rolled her eyes, she had seen this very behaviour many a time with her husband. The tall woman looked on in excitement. The clerk at the front desk served another customer.
George flexed more, he was enjoying watching me squirm. I could out run him, but in a battle of brawn I was underclassed.
"Hey Dutchman." He teased as he was slowly winning. "Make it easy on yourself."
I could see his veins popping on his arms and forehead, I knew mine must be visible as well. I was losing, but I didn't want it to seem too easy in front of the ladies.
"Ok, ok, ok!" I said dropping his arm.
"You never did know when to quit did you!" George chuckled as he embraced me in his massive arms.
We stepped back to look at each other, he hadn't changed since Afghanistan. Aside from the longer hair, he was the same muscular little man.
Like me George was of Afro-Caribbean roots, his folks fled Grenada during the communist take-over to raise him in the US. My mother was from one of the Dutch islands, and my father Holland.
"Damned good to see you, Dutchman!" George said snapping me back to reality.
"What is this tie business?" I said flicking his tie.
"Aw, come on man, forget about the tie." He said leading me over to the ladies.
I shook hands with the tall woman, introducing myself. Her name was Violet French, she had high cheek bones, a friendly smile and blue eyes. Her eyelids were painted an interesting mix, there was a streak of pink with a streak of purple above it.
Nervous laughter erupted, died, then erupted again as we got into the elevator towards our floor. To a casual observer we must have appeared to be two mixed couples in the area for tourism, little would they know the mischief we had in mind.
The women chatted quickly and softly as the elevator rose, Marie told a story about a six blackman gangbang she had. Violet smiled then said something about only sleeping with blackmen. I looked at my hands wondering if I were dark enough.
George elbowed me to get my attention.
"This hotel reminds me of..." George said in a low tone as we walked towards our room.
"The one in the Stan..." I said finishing his sentence. "Yeah, eerie."
"Too bad that Russian news crew wasn't here!" He laughed entering the room.
Marie and Violet had several bags each, which they started unloading. I opened my mouth to mention the run-ins I had with that news crew over the years, but shut my jaw. It didn't make any sense to me, so I doubt it would to him.
"I gotta smoke a J." He said looking out the window.
I guffawed at this, I didn't want that smell on me. In the Netherlands one could enjoy cannabis products with a nice coffee at a café, but it wasn't a habit I ever picked up.
"Wanna come along?" He asked.
"Nah." I replied.
"Bunch a slack-jawed so and so's around here!" He boasted loudly holding up the small joint. "This stuff will make you a God damned sexual Tyrannosaurs Rex just like me!"
Marie did the sign of the cross frowning. Violet set down her bags to observe our banter.
"Yeah." Violet piped up. "I could do a spliff too! Let's go out back."
With that they were gone, leaving Marie and I alone. She wore a button up jean shirt with a pair of shorts, her ash blonde hair was styled in a bob. I rubbed my arm, it hurt a great deal from George.
