I have a confession to make - some of my posts are completely 100% absolutely true (more than you probably know) and some of them are little slivers of truth surrounded by metaphor and bullshit.
1511 was one of the latter.
I was in Seattle three years ago for a week's worth of work. Actually it was about a day's worth of work but I was given a week to do it. I'll spare you my itinerary for the first few days and skip to the good part. I was staying in room 1511 at the Red Lion right downtown.
I almost ordered room service my last night in town. I had eaten out every night that week and I was just tired of it. I laid there on my bed for about an hour while I tried to motivate myself enough to either dial four numbers on the phone for some Extreme Nachos or put my pants back on and walk to the restaurant downstairs.
The pants won out.
At that time in my life, I was really into the black thing - black slacks, black cashmere sweater and black blazer - quite the brooding ensemble. So I slunk (slunked? sloonk? Somebody help me out here) down to the elevator and into the bar. But as I turned the corner, I saw that the place was jammed packed. I really really really don't do well in crowds. That just wouldn't do.
I should have walked back to the elevator.
But I walked next door to the Rock Bottom Brewery instead.
I paced to the end of the bar, vaguely aware of the three or four other people already there. I was halfway through my first beer before I noticed her four stools over. She's was like a woman but also like a little girl. I'm sitting here now trying to think of how to describe her, but I just can't. A little "Meg Ryan in DOA"-ish. A tad "coffee shop clerk with the scars on her wrist"-ish. She just made you instinctively want to protect her.
She was talking with the bartender like they knew each other. They were talking about the Mariners, about the Seahawks and about her fantasy football team (I wish it was something more poignant or impassioned, but it is what it is). I interjected something stupid and she looked over at me like I was trespassing. But I couldn't help it. The stupidity flowed out my mouth until I made her laugh.
The bartender slipped away and left us talking across four barstools. She asked/told me to move closer so we wouldn't have to yell to be heard. I moved over three seats leaving only one between us. She then looked at me like I just backwashed into the sacremental wine. I moved over one more.
She was 35 and recently divorced. A 17 yr old golf-playing son and an eleven year old daughter. Ex-husband is a suburban cop. They split because he cheated on her. I lied about what I did - probably told her I sold insurance or something. Everything else was the truth though.
I asked her if she'd been shopping - she had a Gap bag down by her feet. She looked at me nervously and said no. I thought that was kind of weird but I just dropped it.
As we talked I thought to myself that it was too bad we hadn't met a few days before. That would have given us some time to click while I was in town. As it was, I was probably going to go home never knowing what could have been.
As it got later, we played a little pool and put about eight beers on my tab. It was getting late and I offered to walk her to her car. She said that she took the bus into work that morning, but that she'd just go home with me that night.
Look, I'm no prude. I've had my share of "short term" relationships before and I really wasn't averse to another one.
But it just didn't feel right.
I kind of laughed it off and changed the subject to something a little less nerve-wracking. But that recess only last about ten minutes before the subject was broached again.
"I think we need to go to your room now" she said plainly.
"But don't you have to work tomorrow" I protested.
She smile mischievously and opened up her Gap bag to reveal a neatly folded blouse and skirt along with assorted undergarments and toiletries.
She planned this before she left for work that morning - she wasn't going home that night.
Needless to say I was a little taken aback as to how inconsequential I truly was to the equation - I was merely a means to an end. It wasn't my subtle charm or disarming good looks that seduced her - I just happened to be the guy that sat down next to her.
But I knew where she was coming from. But I also knew that the last thing she needed was to fuck some random guy. She just needed to be away from home for a night. Maybe feel a little attractive, a little wanted, a little desired. But mostly she wanted to feel safe. And if she had to give out a liitle sex to feel that way, it was something she was willing to live with.
I thought to myself how incredibly lucky she was - I looked around the bar and tried to figure out who would have been the chosen one had I stayed in my room. But she was lucky precisely because I did walk into the bar. She was lucky because I wanted her to feel needed. She was lucky because I wanted her to feel safe more than I wanted to get laid.
We held hands for the four minute walk back up to my hotel room. As we walked, I hatched a half-assed plan to get her back home - I was going to go back to the room with her, have a couple diet cokes while I sobered up enough to drive her home.
But things went awry once we got inside.
The first thing she did was open my curtains. I'd been there all week and I'd never even looked out the window. We could see the illuminated top of the Space Needle across the downtown skyline. We laid on the bed and talked for about an hour.
What did we talk about? Nothing really. Certainly nothing that we could have or should have talked about. Just her family and my made-up job and her kids and my dog. Everything but us. Then she shut up for a second and asked me if I was going to kiss her.
"I promised myself I wouldn't" I answered. She leaned up, took off her earring and turned around to place them on the nightstand. And as she did this, her blouse rose up in the back revealing and six inch patch of soft white skin.
I stopped breathing for a moment before she turned back around and kissed me.
It wasn't the kiss of a drunken woman unaware of what she was doing. It was the kiss of a woman knowing exactly where she was and doing exactly what felt right. And I kissed her back for the same reasons.
I woke up in the morning to the image of her looking out the window past the city as the day broke. She was wearing nothing but my sweater from the night before and I could almost feel the soft wool against her skin.
That moment was the most afraid that I've ever been in my entire life. I was scared because I knew I was about to lose something I never really had. I was scared of how intense I felt after only nine hours. I was scared because I'd never had a problem walking away before. I was scare because I'd never wanted anything that badly.
I watched her with my eyes half-opened for ten minutes. I closed my eyes in pretend sleep when she picked up her bag and walked to the bathroom to shower.
It actually ended better than I thought it would. I got up and drove her to work - fifteen blocks to her office building. I met her for lunch and we went to Ivar's for fish and chips. I gave her my number before heading to the airport.
I honestly thought she'd call.
A month passed before the thought of her drove me to distraction. In a fit of stupid curiosity, I googled her name. The third entry down was from a registery of legal announcements. I opened the site to find that it was a court record of divorce proceedings. The date next to her and her ex-husband's names caught my eye - her divorce became official six hours before I met her. That's why she wasn't going home that night. That's why she needed to feel safe.
I really wish she would have called.
And that, my friends, is the rest of the story.
