This happened last weekend. I was away in the Middle East being interviewed for a prospective position, as I mentioned in my previous FR, and when all was done at the company's offices on Sunday morning (weekends are Fri-Sat in that part of the world), I returned to my hotel, had a swim, and got ready for dinner.
I did open a pair of girls lounging in bikinis by the hotel poolside; they were flight attendants, one Portuguese and the other Italian, and we had a nice conversation but neither of them had leisure to eat with me that night, and since I was leaving early next morning, I was hardly going to take a number. It did give me an idea of the abundance of female talent present in the area, though, for future reference
So, as is often the case on business visits, I head to dinner alone. I decide to eat in an Italian restaurant in the neighboring hotel; the two are connected and belong to the same chain. No outdoor tables are available without a reservation, so I am shown to a table indoors and start perusing the menu.
At that moment I notice a waitress serving a lady by the window, apparently also alone, seated facing toward me. There is a hostess stand set up to my right; the waitress who has served the lady, and another girl, are standing parallel at the stand, facing me as I look to my right. The second notices me staring, trying to get the waitress's attention, so I indicate nonverbally to her that I need to speak with the first waitress. She nudges her and the waitress comes over to my table.
We converse for about 90 minutes at the table before moving on. We speak mostly English, though with a little French interspersed—my French is rusty, and her English, though not excellent, is close to the surface, she having spent the past few days in an international environment as well as having customers in London, as discussed above.
She is vacationing alone for a few days and tells me she has barely left the hotel except today to do some shopping. She has been lounging by the pool for some much-needed relaxation in view of her demanding sales job. Like me, she leaves tomorrow morning.
After getting to know each other a little, I correctly intuit that she is the youngest of several siblings (I think it was 5 or 6), and she performs an equally accurate cold-read that I am the elder of two. Our excitement piqued by this realization (in reality this is a pretty easy read if you've known a few "babies" from big families), we launch into a two-sided deep-dive that gets surprisingly involved for such brief acquaintance. Apparently intrigued by my self-assured cold approach, she challenges me hard, suggesting that I am uncertain whether I will accept the job if offered because I am "afraid" (the real reason is that other opportunities are on the horizon which may prove more rewarding), and that I have changed jobs every 3-4 years and moved around between countries because I am "fleeing" from conflict with my family (by which she means ascendant relatives... parents and brother, not my own family). «Tu fuis, Marty, tu fuis les conflits avec ta famille!»
She compensates me in cash for her share of the check and presently we move to an outdoor table for drinks. For my part I learn that she wasted four years with a boyfriend who lived in Lyon, wouldn't move to Paris, wouldn't visit her in Paris unless she paid for it and even then reluctantly, never made time for her, and was a general deadbeat. Women amaze me... how could it take her four years to get shot of this guy? The less formal arrangement outdoors enables me to ramp up the kino far beyond what was possible in the restaurant; I position my chair such that my right knee is between her outstretched legs and frequently touch her hair, ear, upper arm, hand, thigh and waist. She pays for our drinks herself and tells me to say "Thank you, PremiumProduce". I comply
After maybe an hour more, I decide it is time to take her to bed. We both have an early flight in the morning. I lean in conspiratorially and tell her that what I would like to do to her right now is not actually legal to do in public in this jurisdiction. (It's not exactly encouraged in private, either, but that's neither here nor there!) She acts mock-shocked, in a good-natured, laughing and smiling sort of way, and protests that she is "not the girl for one night!!" I tell her that I heartily agree, but one night is all we have.
We prod each other and joke about this for maybe 15 minutes more. I tell her that I make no judgment of her, so she needn't be concerned about her reputation; she tells her my judgment is for the birds anyway considering that she is headed to France tomorrow and I to the USA, but that that is not the point. The point is that she is "not the girl for one night!!" and what, pray, ever gave me the impression that she was??
I tell her that I make no conclusions, nor assumptions, about what she is or isn't, but have to ask, else no progress will be made; it is my responsibility to initiate as the man, just as I did when I said hello at the dinner-table; and hers to decide. She concedes this point, but assures me nonetheless that she is "not the girl for one night!!"
I basically decide to just keep asking until she gets up and leaves. She tells me I am charming, that I hold delightful conversation, that she is so happy to have gotten to know me, but she is "not the girl for one night!!" Well, I guess that just about seals it, folks, she's not the girl for one night, by the sounds of it She is totally accepting of my kino in situ but will not follow my lead upstairs.
At this point she gets a real funny feminine expression on her face. Let me try to describe it. It's like a fixed, genuinely happy smile, eyes rolled upward to the skies, shaking her head slowly back and forth, as if to say "What on Earth gave this charmer the idea that I was the girl for one night?!?" It's funny because although she's saying no her eyes somehow possess more sexual attraction than they did previously.
Eventually she tires of my attempts at persuasion, tells me she has to "do the luggage", as she puts it, and literally gets up and walks off. Interestingly enough I never even took a phone number from her
-Marty
I did open a pair of girls lounging in bikinis by the hotel poolside; they were flight attendants, one Portuguese and the other Italian, and we had a nice conversation but neither of them had leisure to eat with me that night, and since I was leaving early next morning, I was hardly going to take a number. It did give me an idea of the abundance of female talent present in the area, though, for future reference
So, as is often the case on business visits, I head to dinner alone. I decide to eat in an Italian restaurant in the neighboring hotel; the two are connected and belong to the same chain. No outdoor tables are available without a reservation, so I am shown to a table indoors and start perusing the menu.
At that moment I notice a waitress serving a lady by the window, apparently also alone, seated facing toward me. There is a hostess stand set up to my right; the waitress who has served the lady, and another girl, are standing parallel at the stand, facing me as I look to my right. The second notices me staring, trying to get the waitress's attention, so I indicate nonverbally to her that I need to speak with the first waitress. She nudges her and the waitress comes over to my table.
- Marty: The lady you just served—by the window—is she sitting with a man, or alone?
Waitress: No, she is alone.
Marty: Thank you!
Marty: Good evening!
PremiumProduce: Good evening! (looking at me expectantly)
Marty: Are you sitting alone?
PremiumProduce: I am.
Marty: What is your name?
PremiumProduce: PremiumProduce, and you are...?
Marty: Marty. I wondered if you'd care to join me. (indicating my table)
PremiumProduce: I like my table, but you may join me if you wish! (smiling)
We converse for about 90 minutes at the table before moving on. We speak mostly English, though with a little French interspersed—my French is rusty, and her English, though not excellent, is close to the surface, she having spent the past few days in an international environment as well as having customers in London, as discussed above.
She is vacationing alone for a few days and tells me she has barely left the hotel except today to do some shopping. She has been lounging by the pool for some much-needed relaxation in view of her demanding sales job. Like me, she leaves tomorrow morning.
After getting to know each other a little, I correctly intuit that she is the youngest of several siblings (I think it was 5 or 6), and she performs an equally accurate cold-read that I am the elder of two. Our excitement piqued by this realization (in reality this is a pretty easy read if you've known a few "babies" from big families), we launch into a two-sided deep-dive that gets surprisingly involved for such brief acquaintance. Apparently intrigued by my self-assured cold approach, she challenges me hard, suggesting that I am uncertain whether I will accept the job if offered because I am "afraid" (the real reason is that other opportunities are on the horizon which may prove more rewarding), and that I have changed jobs every 3-4 years and moved around between countries because I am "fleeing" from conflict with my family (by which she means ascendant relatives... parents and brother, not my own family). «Tu fuis, Marty, tu fuis les conflits avec ta famille!»
She compensates me in cash for her share of the check and presently we move to an outdoor table for drinks. For my part I learn that she wasted four years with a boyfriend who lived in Lyon, wouldn't move to Paris, wouldn't visit her in Paris unless she paid for it and even then reluctantly, never made time for her, and was a general deadbeat. Women amaze me... how could it take her four years to get shot of this guy? The less formal arrangement outdoors enables me to ramp up the kino far beyond what was possible in the restaurant; I position my chair such that my right knee is between her outstretched legs and frequently touch her hair, ear, upper arm, hand, thigh and waist. She pays for our drinks herself and tells me to say "Thank you, PremiumProduce". I comply
After maybe an hour more, I decide it is time to take her to bed. We both have an early flight in the morning. I lean in conspiratorially and tell her that what I would like to do to her right now is not actually legal to do in public in this jurisdiction. (It's not exactly encouraged in private, either, but that's neither here nor there!) She acts mock-shocked, in a good-natured, laughing and smiling sort of way, and protests that she is "not the girl for one night!!" I tell her that I heartily agree, but one night is all we have.
We prod each other and joke about this for maybe 15 minutes more. I tell her that I make no judgment of her, so she needn't be concerned about her reputation; she tells her my judgment is for the birds anyway considering that she is headed to France tomorrow and I to the USA, but that that is not the point. The point is that she is "not the girl for one night!!" and what, pray, ever gave me the impression that she was??
I tell her that I make no conclusions, nor assumptions, about what she is or isn't, but have to ask, else no progress will be made; it is my responsibility to initiate as the man, just as I did when I said hello at the dinner-table; and hers to decide. She concedes this point, but assures me nonetheless that she is "not the girl for one night!!"
I basically decide to just keep asking until she gets up and leaves. She tells me I am charming, that I hold delightful conversation, that she is so happy to have gotten to know me, but she is "not the girl for one night!!" Well, I guess that just about seals it, folks, she's not the girl for one night, by the sounds of it
She is totally accepting of my kino in situ but will not follow my lead upstairs.At this point she gets a real funny feminine expression on her face. Let me try to describe it. It's like a fixed, genuinely happy smile, eyes rolled upward to the skies, shaking her head slowly back and forth, as if to say "What on Earth gave this charmer the idea that I was the girl for one night?!?" It's funny because although she's saying no her eyes somehow possess more sexual attraction than they did previously.
Eventually she tires of my attempts at persuasion, tells me she has to "do the luggage", as she puts it, and literally gets up and walks off. Interestingly enough I never even took a phone number from her
-Marty
