READ AN EXCERPT BELOW
I’m looking for a summer boyfriend, but is this the right guy?
~ check prices before you buy ~
I go into the bathroom to shower. I’m going to wear my yellow two-piece bathing suit under my clothes. I know that I have a great body, and the pool will give me a good excuse to flaunt it. We’ll see if he can ignore my half-exposed bosom! I’m betting that he won’t be the first guy to be seduced at that pool.
Then, as I shower, I start to wonder if it’s a good idea to eat dinner at a motel with an almost total stranger. Maybe my curiosity and sense of adventure is getting ahead of my common sense! Is this really a safe thing to do? Maybe I was a bit hasty in this decision. I really don’t know anything about him. He could just be some biker passing through. He seemed pretty normal when he was talking with Frank about his bike. And he was polite toward Frank and me. I’m thinking that he’s probably not one of those biker-guys who spend their time riding around the countryside looking for women to ravish. And would that be so bad? He is cute. I remind myself, “You did start this summer thinking about a good ravishing.”
His name is Robert, and that certainly doesn’t ring any bells. Maybe this guy is one of those charismatic individuals that can charm people. At Frank’s shop, he sure had Wanda eating out of his hand. She’s normally argumentative towards customers and hard to deal with. But I just cannot shake this disconcerting feeling that I have met him somewhere.
The warm shower water relaxes me, and I continue to ponder why I acted so hastily. It was as if I was on autopilot. Without even really thinking, I get up to talk to him about Jason. And I totally make up that excuse about “finding out more about their meeting.” I haven’t thought about Jason for two seconds in the last six months. Now I’m going to have to invent some questions about Jason.
Robert certainly doesn’t seem to be very prosperous. The motorcycle he’s riding isn’t even a Harley, and it’s pretty ratty looking. Except that is a distinctive seat on the bike. That’s a pretty strange accessory to add to a motorcycle, unless you were expecting to have a passenger. Maybe he was “stood up” on this trip. He may have a girlfriend he’s squabbling with, and that is why he wasn’t paying me any attention. They may be taking a break.
Getting out of the shower and drying off, I continue thinking about the girlfriend angle. Maybe he’s just gotten out of a serious relationship, and he isn’t in the “looking for a replacement” mode. That could be why he wasn’t hitting on me. In that case, this rendezvous will be a waste of time. In my experience, nursing these boys with a “wounded bird” syndrome is a thankless, long-term project.
If I decide to go, I’ll have to stop and get some protection, just in case. I have been meaning to make an appointment with my doctor about “irregular periods”, the single girl’s excuse to get birth control pills. But I haven’t done that yet. Besides, until I get into a serious relationship with someone I know well, I also need some protection from venereal disease.
So, I’m dressed and sitting on the edge of my bed with an overnight bag packed with tomorrow’s work clothes. It’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone who’s interested me this much. It’s been at least a year since I’ve even had a serious date. This probably won’t be a meaningful date either, that is if I decide to follow through and actually go back to the motel. If I don’t go, he probably won’t even notice. He didn’t seem all that excited about the date anyway. And I didn’t definitely promise to come back… well, maybe I did make a vague promise. But a woman can change her mind. It is written in our copy of the dating handbook. And guys know to expect this. Exasperated, I let out a sigh and lean back on the bed, my feet still resting on the floor. Should I keep on with this craziness, or just forget about it? Should I stay home, or should I go? Arrrgh…. what to do? What to do?
