Do Not Open that Bottle

I have been reading my subscribed blogs. One discusses online dating and the weirdo’s that frequent many of these sites. It brought back a memory for me. It was not an online dating site. It was someone I had been hugely infatuated with when I was 16-17. My Mum, myself and sisters had went to a Jehovah’s Witness convention at Yankee Stadium in NYC. Looking through a pair of high-tech binoculars we each at the exact moment caught each other’s eyes. Through the binoculars. Pretty impressive. They were starting to play the day’s end song so we both left our seats and went to the nearest exit. I stood forever and thought I had lost him. He tapped me on my shoulder and we exchanged our phone and mailing address.

My parents gave him their bedroom when he visited and I spent many mornings laying up against his rock hard body parts. His kisses made me swoon for lack of a better word. When he left I could barely stand waiting to see him again.

I visited his home also. He took me to a quaint little pub where “Roy Buchanan” was playing. It was dimly lit and smoky. I fell in love with the music. I still listen to my favorite song of his “Sweet Dreams”

Roy Buchanan’s rendition of “Sweet Dreams” was used for the soundtrack of “The Departed”  Sweet Dreams is like a theme that goes through the picture. The downbeat in the beginning of the song, the way Buchanan plays it, is so melancholy and so powerful.

That guitar is amazing

According to his agent and others, Buchanan was doing well, having gained control of his drinking habit and playing again, when he was arrested for public intoxication after a domestic dispute. He was found hanged from his own shirt in a jail cell on 14 August 1988 in the Fairfax County, Virginia Jail. According to Jerry Hentman, who was in a cell nearby Buchanan’s, the Deputy Sheriff opened the door early in the morning and found Buchanan with the shirt around his neck.

His cause of death was officially recorded as suicide, a finding disputed by Buchanan’s friends and family.

My stay with him was interesting. His mama made me scrambled eggs with ketchup. That was a first for me. They were Italian He made prints of my senior picture in his very own dark room. I remember his mama calling up the stairs inquiring as too what we were up too. After that we decided to go out and park to make out. Make out, sounds funny too me now so many moments later.

After returning me home he gave me the album by Simon and Garfunkel “For Emily Where Ever I May Find her” I played it so much. Over and over again.

I love you girl

He never called me

Months went by and I started getting a bit wild and stepped out of the Jehovah Witness organization and started having fun. Back then sex was fun. Not that it still isn’t, but it’s so different now with all the new technology. Texting, sexting, what the heck.

One evening as my family was sitting down to dinner the phone rang. It was HIM. He said his mama had washed a shirt where he had placed my phone number and he had just found it all crumpled and such. I told him he was too late. I was no longer a virgin and I was planning on getting married. He was devastated. But, hey you snooze you lose as they say.

Years later (2003) I thought I am going to look him up. He enjoyed astronomy and I found him on a site that had pictures of him and all his star-gazing equipment.  I couldn’t believe it. So, I wrote him and asked him if he drove a fiery 1966 red Corvette to meet someone (ME) way back when. It was him and we started a pretty intense on-line chat. Sent provocative pictures, the entire spill. He was so good-looking back in 1966. Dark Italian complexion, mustache, deep, dark soulful brown eyes, a mop of dark hair and a BODY.

When I searched him out online I was married at the time.

After two to three months of this sexual escapade and going down memory lane from a distance of 3,000 miles we decided to meet.

He sent me a round trip ticket. My sister made a brochure for the “Dragonfly Inn” a non-existent oasis I supposedly was meeting her at so my husband would not be suspicious.


The Storyline.

When I spoke with him on the phone he said he was sending me something, a part of him that would make me remember him. He said he wanted it to be special. I am thinking his favorite cologne, a lock of his hair ?

Oh NO!!! The tickets arrived. There was another envelope with something inside. I peeked inside. It was a small medicine bottle. I looked at it and immediately knew he had shared his CUM in a bottle with me. That must have been a feat in it’s self. I was mortified. I spoke with my daughter about it and she said “Mama, please do not go out there” He is weird, too weird.

I went anyways.

He lived in a huge house in the middle of the mountains. There were loaded guns at every door entrance and he said it was for the wild wolves. The master shower had cobwebs and he said “Use the one in my bedroom”

He was totally bald.

Not what I remembered. Of course I wasn’t what he remembered either. Change does happen after nearly 40 years. He was now almost 60. I was 55.

His kitchen table was filled with magazines and papers so much I barely realized it was in deed a dining table.

The back room was filled with old computers and parts to older computers. There were many binoculars ,telescopes and I was overwhelmed that he had not made any effort evidently to present a better first impression.

The car we took a tour in smelled of gasoline so badly I thought it would explode.

In other words I was ready to leave as soon as I had arrived.

The first night we had sex. He smashed me down into the water-bed so far I couldn’t breathe. I was not impressed with that either.

I started writing a journal of my time there and silly me deleted them after sending them too my email addy. I neglected to empty the recycle bin. After I was thankfully home I get an email saying all this crap about the emails (Journal) I had left for him too see. I had been gone for 4 days. Seemed like forever.

Oh well.

We never made mention of the CUM in the bottle gift. I assume he thought I liked it. I didn’t even want too get started on that one. Not on his turf…if you know what I mean ???

3 thoughts on “Do Not Open that Bottle

  1. Well, yes it WAS. Another time I moved into an apartment. There was a psychedelic toilet seat. I kept that:)
    I opened the medicine cabinet and it was filled with these tiny bottles filled with face creme ??? I trashed them really quick.

  2. Summer Said says:

    Good lord woman, he sent what in a bottle?? He sounds like a serial rapist or a sex offender. Did you do a background check on this guy? Shit, if I got that in the mail, I would have called the FBI!

I'm listening for the "Whispers"

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