I don't write much about my love life on this blog - mostly because it isn't very interesting - but while I was on vacation recently that all changed. I met and was romanced by a very, very special man. Our time together was short, only a few days, but I'll never forget it. It was like something out of a Shakespearean play. Or maybe a Robert James Waller novel. Beautiful and passionate and doomed from the beginning.
I was having breakfast at a little restaurant in Morro Bay when I first noticed him busing a nearby table. Well, actually I noticed the other busboy first because that one was wearing purple eyeliner and a little bowler hat that made him a dead ringer for Debbie Gibson in her Electric Youth days. I was intrigued by this and started scribbling a poem called "Sexually Ambiguous Busboy" on my napkin. I had almost finished it when I heard a voice say, "You want some more tea?"
"No," I said, without looking up.
"Yes," I said, feeling irritated. It's so annoying to be interrupted while trying to think up a word to rhyme with androgynous. "I'm sure."
"O-tay," he said, and then the next thing I knew, ice cold tea was drenching the table and paper napkin I'd been writing on, and dripping down my legs.
"Oh! I sorry, pretty lady! Sorry! It was an accident!" he cried, and began wringing his hands.
"You idiot!" I was peeved. The poem was gone, as the ink was now illegible. I stood up, ready to yell at him some more, and that's when I really saw him for the first time and I was......captivated.
Can you blame me?
Tenderly he wiped me off with the filthy bus towel, all the while looking into my eyes with his intense green gaze. And then he gave me a killer grin that could melt the panties off a nun.
"You're pretty," he said, simply, and grabbed my hand. "Are you my fwiend?"
At his touch, the hairs on the back of my neck began to tingle with lust.
"Sure," I whispered, knowing that, indeed, we would be very good friends. "My name is Prunella, but you can call me Pru. What's yours?"
"I'm called Tom," he said. "Some people say I'm crazy, but I'm not crazy. I'm special!"
"Yes," I agreed, checking him out in his tee shirt and jeans (you can see them in the photo above). From what I could tell as he stood very close, he had a decent bulge going on in those pants. "I bet you are quite special."
"Fwiend," he grinned. "Can I have a hug?"
And with that he pulled me tightly towards him, his tiny hands roving over my back and ass in a way that sent shivers of desire down my spine and straight to my hoohah. I felt a warmth like I had never known, from somewhere deep within my loins swell up and spill between my thighs, and I realized then that I had to have him. Even though I knew it was wrong, that society would frown on a tryst between a mentally challenged man and a brilliant young genius like myself, still I decided to go for it. After all, a love like this only comes along once in a lifetime. Besides, there isn't much to do in San Luis Obispo after the sun goes down, and I hadn't been able to get tickets for the Hearst Castle tour.
"Tom," I murmured as we embraced, rocking back and forth. "Would you like to come back to my hotel with me?"
"Oh! Yes! Hooray!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Let's go! Wheel of Fortune is on at 1:00 and again at 1:30! And then it comes on another time at 7:00!"
I was charmed by his childlike enthusiasm. He was so excited by everything, a nice change for someone like me - a woman who had become a bit jaded by life. He was not a smart man by any means, but under his tutelage I found a new joy in the simple things, like slow, wet, sloppy kisses, frolicking on the beach sand, and walking hand in hand with a lover while searching the night sky for UFOs. I even began to develop an appreciation for the blandness that is Pat Sajak. By the way, did you know that Chuck Woolery was the original host of Wheel of Fortune?
My lover, enjoying the new sunglasses I bought for him at Target. He cleaned up quite nicely. In this picture, I had just asked him how large his penis was and he was estimating. He did a pretty good job. Why else do you think I was kept him around for three days?
In return, I taught Tom about the ways of love - hawt sexual love - between a man and a woman, and also the wonders of a heated toilet seat with oscillating rear cleansing. He enjoyed both, although it sometimes seemed to me that he was a bit too into the rear cleansing. I could barely get him off of that thing!
Tom never seemed to stop smiling. Here he is telling me about aliens from outer space. He gets really excited about them.
The few days we spent together were truly magical. Unfortunately, it had to end when the time came for me to head back down to Riverside.
"Tom," I said that night, after he had watched his TV show and I had crammed all my junk back into my suitcase. "I must leave you now."
"What?" he looked stunned. "You can't go, fwiend!"
"I'm sorry, my darling, but I have to return the rental car soon and go back to my life in Tennessee. Now get dressed and I'll drive you back to the group home."
"No!" he yelled, his face turning red. "Nooooooooo!"
He then leapt on the pink velvet couch we'd been sitting on, and began jumping up and down hysterically.
I felt terrible that he was so upset but I really had to get going. Plus, I had visions of the Madonna Inn charging me big bucks for any damage to the furniture.
"Stop that right now, Tom," I said sharply, "that sofa is an expensive antique. Get down!"
"Noooooooo!" He kept right on jumping. "No, no, no! You complete me! You commmmmpletttte me!"
It took an hour and two Valiums to get him to calm down. Of course, I had to lie and tell him the Valium were Vitamin C pills - someone had convinced him drugs were bad - and I eventually got him back to the handicapable home where he lives. It was hard to say goodbye - mostly because he kept screaming You complete me!
As I drove off, I popped the soundtrack to the movie Grease in the CD player and sang along with the Olivia Newton John parts of the song Summer Nights. Whoever wrote those lyrics was quite wise in the ways of holiday romance. It seemed to be written just for Tom and me.
Summer lovin, had me a blast
Summmer lovin happened so fast
(Other boring lyrics that don't relate to me and Tom)
Shoo-bop bop, shoo-bop bop, shoo-bop bop,shoo-bop bop, shoo-bop bop, shoo-bop bop, shoo-bop bop, YEH
Summer fling, don't mean a thing, but uh-oh those summer nights
Summer heat, boy and girl meet, but uh-oh those summer nights
Summer dreams ripped at the seams,
bu-ut oh, those su-ummer nights....
A worker from Tom's group home just emailed me this picture. It seems he's been doing nothing but jumping on the couch since we parted.