An Ancient Missed Opportunity Lost In Time



I received a telephone call from a male colleague of mine as he sat there beating himself up for what he called the stupidest things that he did in his entire life. 

He blew his chance to get laid by this woman that he was talking to. He had met her, picked her up, brought her home to his place…. and still he failed. 

It caused me to think back to a time back in the 1990’s where I went to visit central Iowa based on the fact that I called a group of girls who were roommates a bunch of chickens, that they wouldn’t take the drive from Iowa to Kansas where I was living at the time. And before I knew it they were on their way. 

They were known for having chat room parties in their home. They got together with a bunch of people from the state of Iowa frequently and even though I was not from Iowa they accepted me into their group. 

Until I got to talking one-on-one with one of the roommates… believing that she found me dashing and charming and all of that. 

Well when I called these roommates a bunch of chickens, they were gone the next morning and drove straight through. I think it was at least a ten hour drive for them. And THEN they stopped by my place.

I got to hang out with the girl that I thought was getting sweet on me, and I on her. But she nipped that really fast. Long before they even left my home. And I wondered what the hell was going on with her. To be fair, I had been warned about her by her other roommates but I did not listen all that well.

So off I went to be shown off like a prize trophy in a state that I had never been to before. 

As a child I had always wanted to visit all fifty states of the United States of America. Depending on what your opinion is on airports, I may or may not have to do Minnesota and North Carolina over again. But back then it was going to be Iowa. During winter. In February. Geez, what the hell was I thinking or not thinking???

Ten hours back with them and agreeing to stay with them for seven days and then being promised to be returned in one piece. Back then, meeting someone from the Internet wasn’t as scary as it is today. You either trusted the other person or you did not. There was no in between on the situation. If you did, you went for the face-to-face, if you didn’t… then you didn’t speak of it being an option. 

I rolled out during the night and got to their home the following morning just an hour or so after the sun had come up. 

By that Wednesday, another chat room gathering had been announced but everything was in MY HONOR. “COME AND MEET HIM!” they told everyone. And everyone who was an hour and a half or less away came over. 

Here’s where the similiarties come in from my colleague and the part of the story you really are interested in.

There was a woman who came to visit by the name of Joanna. She was known in the chat room as lively, bubbly, flirty, and just a fun time gal. But she was single. And she had a small child. But other than that… she was a trip and a half!!!! 

People started passing out from drinking. They slept where they fell. Joanna had put her child to bed in the other room. But she camped out near the mattress that was laid out on the living room floor. 

When I realized that the one roommate was just playing games, I quickly moved on to talking with Joanna until 3 or 4 in the morning. But drinking all that beer got me in a nice tight spot. Do I make a move on her and then run the risk of pissing all over her because I had to pee or do I go take a leak and kill an opportunity that was before me. 

I remember leaning over and trying to kiss her on the neck, to signal that I was willing and ready for her. But she turned her head and my beer soaked lips slid across the bottom of her ear along her ear lobes to where it felt pretty damn slimy!

I could have gone for other places on the head. Forehead, cheek, nose, mouth even. But I went for the neck and missed. 

The humiliation set in, and the beer was starting to float from my bladder into my skull as my eyes began to float. 

People with disabilities like mine don’t wanna fight the bladder. It never ends up good. So I excused myself but I begged her NOT to go anywhere at all and I made her promise that she wouldn’t move. Over and over again, I made her promise. 

After that I crawled among the sleeping bodies on the floor as I made my way to the bathroom. A bathroom that didn’t have heat and so when I sat down on that toilet seat, I damned near froze my ass to it!!

But I survived. Now the bladder was not such a threat of going vigilante on me and I could proceed with the odd-filled romantic mood with Joanna. 

Joanna however went into the other room and she was out like a light. Less than three minutes of being absent… I found her laying next to her son asleep and snoring like a crazed motherfucker on a mission to cut down the Amazon rain forest single-handedly. 

Joanna was gone. That moment passed. Opportunity missed. And she was going to go back home in the morning. With her child being awake…. nothing was going to happen between her and I. 

And that’s what came to my mind when I heard about my colleague who brought this woman to his house. He excused himself to answer the telephone since it was his work. And when he came back to her, she had left. He claims he was gone ten minutes at the most. But she ran off. 

He went driving to look for her and he found her up the street. So he zoomed off to reach her, but she cut across someone’s yard, jumped over a fence and disappeared. 

I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what was said before all of that. I just know that he found her in public, said the right things for her to let him take her to his place. And then she bailed. 

Poor bastard cannot catch a break. 

Apparently, neither can I. Even after almost fifteen years. 


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s