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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Life Experience
- Published: 03/31/2014
A San Francisco Meeting
Born 1929, M, from Roseville, CA, United StatesArnold Gray had been to a good many of these meetings, in which State agencies got together to improve their coordination, and this one, held in a San Francisco hotel, was, in his opinion, no different---pretty much a waste of time. He’d said as much in the afternoon discussions, drawing frowns from several Division chiefs. Now, after a bland dinner in the hotel restaurant, he and his friend Bill Owens were having a drink in the bar. After one drink, Arnold, who hadn’t wanted to attend this meeting but had been dragooned into going by his own Division chief, would be happy to go up to his room and go to bed.
“Did you see that one?” asked Bill. “She’s hot.”
Arnold had already noticed the tall auburn-haired woman across, as the song put it, a crowded room, nice face and figure, especially for a State employee. “She’s attractive,” he said.
“She’s hot. I’m going to go over and meet her.” Bill, a bachelor, fancied himself a ladies man. Arnold was married with two kids. He hadn’t been with another woman since meeting his wife, Eleanor. “Good luck,” he said.
Alone, Arnold reviewed the meeting in his mind. When he’d started with the State, ten years ago, the administration believed in centralizing everything. Then, a few years later, a new administration had decided this was no good and that everything should be decentralized. Now another new administration was back to centralizing. In his experience, none of this top-level strategy, made any difference to how the lower-level State employees on the front line actually did their work.
Arnold looked up; his friend Bill was back. “She’s an ice queen,” he said. “Someone told me about a club near the hotel. I’m going to give it a try. Want to come?”
“No, thanks.”
“Always the good family man, huh? Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.”
To hear Bill tell it, he had at least half a dozen women back in Sacramento that he alternated going with. Arnold wondered how true Bill’s stories were. Usually, he felt a little sorry for his friend, always having to find a susceptible woman. Sometimes, when he felt his own married life was getting stale, he felt a little envy. He finished his drink and was about ready to leave when the woman who Bill said was hot and then an ice queen came up to his table. “Mind if I join you,” she asked.
Arnold looked around, but, yes, she was talking to him. He said, “No, not at all.”
“Your friend was trying to hit on me.”
“Oh. Well, he tends to do that with attractive ladies.”
“I didn’t mind. He’s harmless.”
“He’s not a bad guy; the secretaries in our office call him Casanova.”
“My name’s Ruth Simmons.”
“Yes, I remember from this afternoon. From the San Diego Children’s Health office, right?”
“Yes. And you’re Arnold Gray, from the Sacramento Health Statistics Division. I liked what you said this afternoon, about how we’d be better off spending our time improving our information systems rather than having meetings like this.”
“Well, I work with information systems so I’m a little prejudiced.”
“No, you’re right. We just spin our wheels talking about getting better coordinated. It’s serving our customers, families with children, that counts.”
A few minutes ago, Arnold had felt tired; now he didn’t. Up close, Ruth Simmons was even more attractive than he’d thought. She had strong features and a firm chin. Her eyes were large, green, he thought, sparkling. She wore a tight-fitting blouse, not too low-cut but enough to show the tops of her breasts and, despite himself, his eyes kept wandering to them. He didn’t know what kind of scent she wore but it was pleasant. “Would you like a drink?” he asked.
“Yes, if you’d like another one.”
When they had their drinks they continued talking about their ideas to improve State services. He found out she was an Assistant Division Chief; also, that she was divorced, had no children, lived alone. She was ambitious, expected to become a Division Chief. From shop talk, they veered into more personal matters. She’d traveled to Europe. Arnold told her about going to London and Paris while he was in the Army, stationed in Germany. They both liked the theater. They agreed that most movies nowadays were terrible, meant for teenagers, or below. The same was true for TV shows. While they talked, when she became enthusiastic about something, she put her hand over Arnold’s. She was a toucher, he thought. He didn’t mind.
They’d finished their drinks. Arnold looked up and saw that almost everyone else in the bar had left. “I guess we should go,” he said.
“Yes. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”
They walked to the elevator. Her room was on the same floor as his. They went to her door and he said, “Well, it was nice talking to you. Good night.”
“Come inside for a minute. I want to show you something.”
He went in and for an instant wondered what she wanted to show him, then she pressed up close to him and he could feel the breasts he’d admired against his chest. He guessed this was it. “I told you I’m married,” he said.
“I know.”
“I could never leave my wife.”
“I never asked you to.”
“I don’t think …”
She kissed him. “It’s only one night. Would you rather go back to your room and watch TV?”
That clinched it.
The next morning Arnold had breakfast with Bill. They’d head back to Sacramento afterwards. “How’d it go at the club?” asked Arnold.
“No action at all. Should have stayed here and gone to bed early like you.”
Later that day when Arnold was back in his office he called his wife Eleanor. She told him one of the sprinklers in the back yard was broken and shooting up water like a geyser. Also, the car was making a funny noise. This was normal; every time he was out of town for a day or two these things happened. It seemed to be a law of life, of married life anyway. “How are the kids?” he asked.
“Fine. How was your meeting?”
“The usual, boring. A lot of stuff piled up on my desk. See you tonight.”
The rest of the week went as usual. Wednesday evening they had a Little League game. Thursday was boy scouts. Saturday morning he played tennis with Bill. Saturday night they went to a barbecue at a neighbor’s. When they got home, with the kids in bed, they made love. On Sunday, he tried to fix the broken sprinkler but couldn’t. They’d have to call a lawn service. The car seemed to be running okay. When he got back to his office on Monday he had a fresh report he had to do right away. He pushed the report material away from him and looked out the window. There was another meeting, in San Diego, in about six weeks. It concerned children’s health so he was sure Ruth Simmons would be there. He was also sure that if he asked, his Division Chief would agree to send him. He picked up a pencil and tapped it on his desk a few times. He’d think about it. He turned to the report.
###
A San Francisco Meeting(Martin Green)
Arnold Gray had been to a good many of these meetings, in which State agencies got together to improve their coordination, and this one, held in a San Francisco hotel, was, in his opinion, no different---pretty much a waste of time. He’d said as much in the afternoon discussions, drawing frowns from several Division chiefs. Now, after a bland dinner in the hotel restaurant, he and his friend Bill Owens were having a drink in the bar. After one drink, Arnold, who hadn’t wanted to attend this meeting but had been dragooned into going by his own Division chief, would be happy to go up to his room and go to bed.
“Did you see that one?” asked Bill. “She’s hot.”
Arnold had already noticed the tall auburn-haired woman across, as the song put it, a crowded room, nice face and figure, especially for a State employee. “She’s attractive,” he said.
“She’s hot. I’m going to go over and meet her.” Bill, a bachelor, fancied himself a ladies man. Arnold was married with two kids. He hadn’t been with another woman since meeting his wife, Eleanor. “Good luck,” he said.
Alone, Arnold reviewed the meeting in his mind. When he’d started with the State, ten years ago, the administration believed in centralizing everything. Then, a few years later, a new administration had decided this was no good and that everything should be decentralized. Now another new administration was back to centralizing. In his experience, none of this top-level strategy, made any difference to how the lower-level State employees on the front line actually did their work.
Arnold looked up; his friend Bill was back. “She’s an ice queen,” he said. “Someone told me about a club near the hotel. I’m going to give it a try. Want to come?”
“No, thanks.”
“Always the good family man, huh? Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.”
To hear Bill tell it, he had at least half a dozen women back in Sacramento that he alternated going with. Arnold wondered how true Bill’s stories were. Usually, he felt a little sorry for his friend, always having to find a susceptible woman. Sometimes, when he felt his own married life was getting stale, he felt a little envy. He finished his drink and was about ready to leave when the woman who Bill said was hot and then an ice queen came up to his table. “Mind if I join you,” she asked.
Arnold looked around, but, yes, she was talking to him. He said, “No, not at all.”
“Your friend was trying to hit on me.”
“Oh. Well, he tends to do that with attractive ladies.”
“I didn’t mind. He’s harmless.”
“He’s not a bad guy; the secretaries in our office call him Casanova.”
“My name’s Ruth Simmons.”
“Yes, I remember from this afternoon. From the San Diego Children’s Health office, right?”
“Yes. And you’re Arnold Gray, from the Sacramento Health Statistics Division. I liked what you said this afternoon, about how we’d be better off spending our time improving our information systems rather than having meetings like this.”
“Well, I work with information systems so I’m a little prejudiced.”
“No, you’re right. We just spin our wheels talking about getting better coordinated. It’s serving our customers, families with children, that counts.”
A few minutes ago, Arnold had felt tired; now he didn’t. Up close, Ruth Simmons was even more attractive than he’d thought. She had strong features and a firm chin. Her eyes were large, green, he thought, sparkling. She wore a tight-fitting blouse, not too low-cut but enough to show the tops of her breasts and, despite himself, his eyes kept wandering to them. He didn’t know what kind of scent she wore but it was pleasant. “Would you like a drink?” he asked.
“Yes, if you’d like another one.”
When they had their drinks they continued talking about their ideas to improve State services. He found out she was an Assistant Division Chief; also, that she was divorced, had no children, lived alone. She was ambitious, expected to become a Division Chief. From shop talk, they veered into more personal matters. She’d traveled to Europe. Arnold told her about going to London and Paris while he was in the Army, stationed in Germany. They both liked the theater. They agreed that most movies nowadays were terrible, meant for teenagers, or below. The same was true for TV shows. While they talked, when she became enthusiastic about something, she put her hand over Arnold’s. She was a toucher, he thought. He didn’t mind.
They’d finished their drinks. Arnold looked up and saw that almost everyone else in the bar had left. “I guess we should go,” he said.
“Yes. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”
They walked to the elevator. Her room was on the same floor as his. They went to her door and he said, “Well, it was nice talking to you. Good night.”
“Come inside for a minute. I want to show you something.”
He went in and for an instant wondered what she wanted to show him, then she pressed up close to him and he could feel the breasts he’d admired against his chest. He guessed this was it. “I told you I’m married,” he said.
“I know.”
“I could never leave my wife.”
“I never asked you to.”
“I don’t think …”
She kissed him. “It’s only one night. Would you rather go back to your room and watch TV?”
That clinched it.
The next morning Arnold had breakfast with Bill. They’d head back to Sacramento afterwards. “How’d it go at the club?” asked Arnold.
“No action at all. Should have stayed here and gone to bed early like you.”
Later that day when Arnold was back in his office he called his wife Eleanor. She told him one of the sprinklers in the back yard was broken and shooting up water like a geyser. Also, the car was making a funny noise. This was normal; every time he was out of town for a day or two these things happened. It seemed to be a law of life, of married life anyway. “How are the kids?” he asked.
“Fine. How was your meeting?”
“The usual, boring. A lot of stuff piled up on my desk. See you tonight.”
The rest of the week went as usual. Wednesday evening they had a Little League game. Thursday was boy scouts. Saturday morning he played tennis with Bill. Saturday night they went to a barbecue at a neighbor’s. When they got home, with the kids in bed, they made love. On Sunday, he tried to fix the broken sprinkler but couldn’t. They’d have to call a lawn service. The car seemed to be running okay. When he got back to his office on Monday he had a fresh report he had to do right away. He pushed the report material away from him and looked out the window. There was another meeting, in San Diego, in about six weeks. It concerned children’s health so he was sure Ruth Simmons would be there. He was also sure that if he asked, his Division Chief would agree to send him. He picked up a pencil and tapped it on his desk a few times. He’d think about it. He turned to the report.
###
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