OLGA THE TEMPTRESS

OLGA, THE TEMPTRESS

You would have figured that after three strikes I would have learned my lesson and stopped playing games with my latest heartthrob, Olga. She was known in the neighborhood as “Olga the Flirt.” My ex-girlfriend called her a “skanky ho”! But I was drawn to Olga like a honeybee is drawn to a yellow rose. Had I known Olga was keeping a scorecard on our affair, I would have been more careful. But I kept running off at the mouth about how much I loved her and what I was willing to do to make her happy, that before I knew what hit me, Olga had amassed ten charges against me and called it quits!

In a final message to me she accused me of being a “pubescent teen,” an “antagonistic jerk,” of being “less than tactful,” of offering her an “indecent proposal,” suggesting that she was a “gold digger,” of showing “animosity,” and ending up with the statement that she was liking me “less and less.”

Needless to say these charges were completely unfounded for just a few days prior she was charming me with compliments such as I had a “brilliant mind, an open heart, and words that touch my heart.” That same day she said, “Of course,” to accepting my offer of “unconditional love.” “I love you so much,” she whispered, “for always taking the time to think about me.” She recently described me as “witty, intelligent, and caring.” Tell me, how could I misinterpret such sentiments as, “you are so special to me,” and “I love you so much.” Are those the words of a flirt? I think not!

What am I to do now? Am I to believe the words she spoke last week or the words she spoke yesterday? Either way, my love for Olga is true, and I will continue to love and adore her. Until I know for sure, I won’t conclude this story with THE END.

ONLY IN FLORIDA: Punkus revealed

Only in Florida would a vacation hotel install a Jacuzzi on an outside balcony. And that’s where Punkus and I, for a few days of spring break, spent the evenings lolling in the warm swirling water, staring at the huge moon over our heads, and listening to the soothing sloshing of a nearby sea against warm sands. Like most of our days together, we spent long hours just relaxing in each other’s company. Unlike many dramatic stories I have written of our affair, most of our days and nights then were spent quietly in love. We had no wildly erotic scenes in that Jacuzzi. Just the two of us silently watching the moon move across a darkened sky. If anything, once in a while our toes would touch in a flirting move and once in a while, our lips would softly touch. If any words were spoken, it would be Punkus sighing, “I’m so happy!” That was her favorite expression, spoken at any time of the day, in any place, on any occasion. Not “I love you” but “I am so happy!”

Punkus’s favorite activity was shopping—especially shopping for shoes. She had a passion for shoes—not buying them—but trying them on. Most of the time she wanted me along, I didn’t mind--just being with Punkus made me happy. I was even pleased when she asked my opinion of a pair she had tried on. She had lovely feet, and I had no problem giving my diplomatically, noncommittal judgment of her shoe choices! We once spent two hours in one Florida shoe outlet store without buying anything. But I didn’t mind! At the end of a long, shoe shopping spree we would arrive home with maybe one or two new purchases. And her predictable comment would always be, “I’m so happy!” Whether in a downtown bistro or a country bar, Punkus and I had the uncanny ability to carve out a “zone of quietude” for ourselves. The adjoining room could be filled with shouting revelers or ear-pounding music, but we always managed to find a booth where we could drink and, if not talk, at least absorb the atmosphere. Our favorite country restaurant and bar was a Caribbean-themed edifice, but we preferred sitting on an outside patio, away from the jangle of calypso beats, so we could sit, sip our umbrella-topped drinks, and talk. At the end of such “nights out” Punkus’s summary words were, “I’m so happy!”