James Michael Dorsey 7:40 p.m., Nov. 25
- Community Blog
- Postcards From the Purple Buddha
A Neighborhood Affair to Remember
When I first saw Ken, I nearly dropped my teeth. He was the best looking guy I'd ever seen. I knew I had just hit the jackpot, considering the freaks with fantasies I had heard about on San Diego Craigslist.
Moments before, I'd been shaking in my shoes. We'd been emailing for nine days, but hadn't exchanged photos. My heart was hooked via the Internet connection. I didn't think his looks mattered. But as the time for meeting approached, I had visions of a hunch back with yellow teeth. Suddenly, I had serious doubts...
All worries flew out the car window the minute I laid eyes on him. "You're so handsome!" I raved as if I were some muddled fool. He handed me a box. It contained a porcelain dog. He had remembered my passion for pooches.
Upon entering the Marie Callender's on 13th Avenue, my high heel stuck in the door jamb sending me flying across the waiting area, shoeless. Ken graciously bent down and dislodged my shoe, then slipped it on my foot. For a moment, I was Cinderella.
He was way out of my league. He was tall and trim with brown jewels for irises. When he gazed down at me, I felt like the most beautiful queen on earth. I couldn't get enough. Who would have guessed that this would happen to a middle-aged mom from Escondido? I considered him a blessing.
After lunch, I figured he'd say a polite "good-bye" and send me on my way. I was shocked when he said that I was a great looking lady and that he'd like to see me again. How many pudgy, 48-year-old women get offers like this? Before I knew it, he grabbed me and started plying me with kisses. We embraced with such passion, the senior citizens had to nose dive around us to get to their early bird specials.
"Can I really be doing this?" I thought. I was the type to attend church every Sunday and just one week earlier, I had been elected president of the P.T.A.
A few days later, we talked on the phone. We toyed with the idea of having lunch again, but quickly filed it under "Who are we kidding?" We nervously agreed to meet at The Best Value Inn on Center City Parkway.
I wasn't sure I could go through with it, but once I got there, it was full-speed ahead. We spent hours making rapturous love.
He emailed a couple of weeks later, wanting to get together again. I emailed back that I'd be delighted and headed over to The Best Value Inn. Two hours went by and he didn't show. I had forgotten my cell phone at home and had to go all the way back to use the phone. When I called him, he said he was still at home, waiting for my reply. It came up as we talked. It was our first experience with the freaky delays that can take place over the Net. We both felt screwed, but not in the way we had hoped.
By the fall of 2007, the real estate market plunged, which was painful for Ken since he was a real estate agent in San Marcos. Neither one of us had the money for The Best Value Inn, so I suggested he come to my house. I was so enthusiastic, I bought a new bed, one with a curvy headboard like Cleopatra would sleep in. I bought fresh linens, cleaned the house and couldn't wait for him to get there.
He arrived at 9 a.m. We embraced for awhile and then started kissing. When we moved to the bedroom, we both were beyond ready. He looked in my eyes, I looked in his. He moved his hands down my body, telling me I looked sexy. We undressed and hit the satin sheets. We were about to have the time of our lives when my husband walked in and...