Storm

This weekend we had the first storm of the fall coming in. It's been windy, cold and raining. It's the kind of weather when you would rather stay indoor reading a good book, or playing with your new toy.

Last night I was out in the yard to take down the kids' trampoline before the wind takes it. Sometimes these wind-borne trampolines end up in the neighbors garden, or smashing the neighbors car. I don't want that to happen, so better be precautious.

I made a quick visit to the town center today, to buy a new shirt. Commando shopping as usual; fast in and fast out, with a brief stop in the bookstore afterwards, In the streets people were hurrying from shop to shop or wherever they were going, dressed in raincoats,

All these nasty storms are coming in from the west, even though Russia is to the east. Just joking. I like the Russians. Many of them are very nice people. I always enjoyed traveling to Moscow. I just don't like Putin's aggressive politics, domestic and abroad.

By the way, after the opening of the iron curtain, some precious gifts from the east have come to cross my path.

This storm isn't too bad, actually. There are worse to come, I think. Whatever, we'll probably stay happy as long as there are good books and fun toys >:)

(Picture taken with my cell phone today outside the mall. Not the most interesting picture. I'l try to take some more exciting ones tonight.)

The red dress (part 2)

(You should read part 1 first)

“Come by and visit me some time", I said. "Then I can show you how the apartment has become. You already know where is.”

She thought this was an excellent idea, and she emptied her glass of Boston Lager in one big gulp. I must admit that what followed surprised me a bit.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said and took my hand.

One minute later, we were out in the street. It was a warm and pleasant night, and it was light as always in the summers in the north. The street was full of people, some of them going home, and some on the way to another pub.

We walked as fast as we could in the direction of my apartment. It was just a five minute walk, but this time it took somewhat longer. All the time the woman my hand. To me it felt somewhat awkward, since wasn’t used to it, and had hardly ever done it before. About half way, we passed by a fastfood restaurant. It wasn’t too crowded yet, and I was hungry.

“Would you like something to eat?” I said. “A burger, or maybe a kebab?”

“No, that’s not what I want now,” she said, and pulled my arm when I slowed down outside the restaurant. We moved on, and shortly after we came to my block.

I opened the front door and supported her while we walked the stairs up to the 4^th floor. She was a little bit unsteady, due to both the high heels of her shoes, and the drinks she had consumed. The Boston Lager I bought her wasn’t the first that night.   

When we came inside my apartment, she hugged me, and said;

“So good to be back. It feels like I’m coming home.”

“If you feel like home in my place, maybe you can tell me your name,” I said.

“Names don’t matter. It's a stupid label. You can call me Fanny.”

She kicked off her shoes and flung herself down in the sofa. When I sat down next to her, she leaned against me and rested her head on my shoulder. I felt a little bit uncomfortable, and asked her if she wanted something to drink. She shook her head.

“All I wanna do is to sit right here next to you,” she said.

She looked at me and smiled her fairly charming smile. I must admit that I started to get a excited. I’m an introvert eremite. It doesn’t happen very often that a woman visits my place.

“Where did you get all your money from?” she asked.

“I don’t have a lot of money.”

“You had enough to buy this apartment. What are you working with?”

“I’m a math teacher at the university,” I said. I didn’t mention the money I inherited from my late Uncle Otto.

“Math was my worst subject in school,” she said, “I never understood all this stuff about pi and things like that, but it’s good that you do.”

She had no more to say,  and neither did I. 

We sat there in silence for a while. Suddenly, she got up and started to explore the apartment, almost like she did a few weeks earlier at the showing with the realtor. She opened the door to the balcony, and went outside to breathe the warm summer air, and enjoy the view of the fjord.  Then she looked at the books in my shelf, before she ran to the bathroom.

I was still hungry (since I didn’t get my kebab), and opened the fridge to find something to eat. I made myself a sandwich with cheese and salami, and opened a can of beer.I sat down by the kitchen table to eat it.

She was gone for quite some time, and after I while I started to wonder where she was. Maybe she fell a sleep in the bathroom? After all, it was an hour or two after midnight, and she was a little bit drunk. Or maybe she was checking out the sauna and taking a shower? I waited for a while, five minutes ten minutes. Then I gently knocked the door to the bathroom. No answer. I opened the door and looked inside. Nobody was there. There was only one more place where she could possibly be.

I opened the door to my bedroom and went in. Her clothes was thrown over the chair in the corner, with her bra and panties on the top of the pile. She was in the bed, in my bed, under my blanket. Only her head was sticking out. Suddenly, she pulled the blanket to the side, and spread her legs. I looked into this warm, soft and wet that only a woman can offer.

“Lick me,” she said, with a voice that was both seducing and commanding.

Like an obedient dog, I climbed into the bed, and dived in between her legs. I  let my tongue slide around between the folds she has down there. Kissing lips is kissing lips, no matter where they are located. She twisted and moaned under my face. I must admit that I liked the salty taste of her oyster, and that this act excited me quite a lot. After all, I’m just a man. However, this incident came to define our relationship, and the rank between us. She was the autocratic ruler, I was the submissive minion, obeying every command from my master.

The next morning, I lay in my bed watching her. She came out of the bathroom with a big towel wrapped around her body. She dropped the towel, and turned her big butt against me. It was a nice butt, for sure.  She picked up her clothes from the chair in the corner, and got dressed. Then she disappeared from my bedroom. When I heard the front door was closed and locked, I thought that she walked out of my life for good.

Unfortunately, I was wrong. 

To be continued ...

The red dress (part 1)

I know exactly when it started, this chain of events that led to so much trouble. It was a Thursday morning in the beginning of May. I sat by the breakfast table, chewing on a slice of bread with Swiss cheese. As usual, I looked briefly through the morning paper. After the sports pages, with the soccer results, and before the stock market listings, I came to see this real-estate advertisement. It was exactly what I had been looking for. The apartment was on the 4^th floor in a building in the old part of town. It was recently refurbished, with a new bathroom and a large balcony facing west. The view was magnificent, towards the university, where I work, and the fjord, where the coastal express sails every morning at ten o’clock.

The apartment had only one bedroom, but that’s good enough for me. I’m unmarried and without kids. Hardly anyone comes to visit me, and certainly not to stay over. A guestroom is redundant. It was just the kind of den I wanted, a place to relax after work, with good music and a good book, and a view to the snow-covered mountains on the other side of the fjord (in the winter time).

I called the realtor immediately.

“Hello, this is Easttown Real Estate, how can I help you”

The voice of the woman on the phone was soft and sweet. I wondered what she looked like. In my imagination she was chubby with red hair and green eyes.

“I’m interested in that 4^th-floor apartment that you advertised today,” I said.

“Yes, that’s a nice one. There are a couple of other guys interested. We will have a showing this evening at 5 pm.”

“Thank you, I’ll be there,” I said and hung up.

I was very excited when I stood on the walkway outside the apartment building at 5 pm. There was no sign outside, but there was no doubt I was at the right address. The BMW Z5 that was parked outside the building smelled real-estate agent. I’ve seen them before, these young guys in Armani suits and Italian shoes, and the sly salesman smile on their face

There was no elevator in the old building, so I walked up the stairs, and knocked the door with the “for sale” sign on the 4^th floor. The Armani suit opened the door. He was in his in his socks only, The Italian shoes were placed on a carped by the door. I interpreted this as a sign that I should take off my shoes before walking on the new hardwood floor. He gave me his hand and said

“Robert. Welcome.”

I took his hand, but didn’t bother to say my name. It wouldn’t be of interest to him anyway, at least not before we would eventually sign a contract.

“I talked to a woman in your office regarding the showing,” I said.”

“It was probably Carol, our secretary.”

“Yes, probably.” I didn’t tell him that I was disappointed to meet Robert, and not Carol, at the showing.

A middle-aged couple had come before me, and was already viewing the apartment. It wasn’t what they were looking for,   with only one bedroom. They hadn’t studied the prospect very carefully.

“Too small,” she saud.

“Too expensive,” he said..

It felt like a relief to me. They were unlikely to make a bid.

Right after my arrival, a red summer dress came soaring through the door. The woman wearing the red dress immediately started to inspect the apartment. Barefoot, she danced like a ballerina through the rooms, and out on the balcony. She was very enthusiastic. Her large breasts moved up and down when she breathed. I couldn’t help imagine what she would look like free from the red dress. She expressed her excitement for the bathroom with the sauna, the living room with the shining hardwood floor, and the balcony with the view to the fjord.

“It’s awesome,” she said. “I love it.”

She had a fairly charming smile, but she wasn’t very pretty. I must admit that I quickly forgot her.

The next morning I called Robert to submit my bid. I even raised it right before lunch, to show that I was serious, and to scare off competing bidders. What I had in mind, of course, was the woman with the red dress and the fairly charming smile.

I must admit that I had to stretch beyond my budget. Without my late Uncle Otto it would not been possible. Uncle Otto had made a small fortune as an umbrella manufacturer. He was unmarried and without children. It was a big surprise, when he for unknown reasons provided me a large amount of money in his will.

I have a permanent position as a mathematics teacher at the university, but my income is by no means enough to pay for such an apartment. My modest position involves only lecturing of undergrad courses. I’m not expected to do research. How could I? There is nothing I could contribute to the work of the great masters, such as Gauss, Cauchy and Hilbert.

Three weeks later I moved in. Two of my friends, Frank and Joe, offered to help me move. I very much appreciated this, of course. I wouldn’t be able to carry my furniture up the stairs on my own. Swearing and breathing heavily, we pulled my sofa up to the 4^th floor. It was heavy and hard to get around the turns of the stairway. On the 3^rd floor, we paused for a while to recover.

“When this is over, I’ll invite you to a party,” I said in a moment of imprudence.

I immediately regretted what I had said. I‘m an introvert man, and I don’t have many friends. I don’t want to have many friends. Most of the time, I prefer to be on my own. In fact, the only persons with whom I have some social interaction are Frank and Joe, who helped me move. Frank is a scholar in the Institute of Mathematics, where I work, and Joe is an old friend from college days. Just the tree of us, and a six-pack of beer, wouldn’t make much of a party. Therefore, a party in my apartment was out of question. On the other hand, I couldn’t withdraw my invitation. I had to think fast.

“Let’s go to the bar by the old bridge next weekend,” I said. “The beers are on me, of course,” I added.

“Great idea,” said Frank.

“Sounds good,” said Joe.

The next weekend we met in the pub by the old bridge; Frank and Joe and I. I was dressed in my best black shirt, and my only jacket, the upper half of my only suit. My credit card was safe in the pocket. I was in a good mood, and so were the others. Around us people around us swang foaming pints of beer and shouted half-understandable  sentences in each other’s ears.

I ordered three Brooklyn Brown Ales, and handed my credit card to the bartender. The stereo played Guns ‘n’ Roses on full volume.

“Sweet Child of Mine,” Frank shouted.

“Best guitar riff ever,” said Joe.

“Give me some death metal, such as Nile,” I said, to show my knowledge of metal.

This kind of spiritual conversations took place all night. After all, we shouldn’t just talk science stuff when we were partying.

After a while, the pub was packed with people that I had never seen before and would probably never see again. It didn’t matter for me. The pub was just a backdrop of hustle and bustle. I got the feeling of being part of a big social community, at least for a night.

We fought our way through the crowd to get another beer at the bar, Leffe Brune this time. Abbey beer from Belgium. After all they did something useful, these monks.

Eventually, I lost the sight of Frank and Joe. They diffused into the crowd.

It was right before midnight, when I was hanging at the bar alone, when a woman gently touched my arm. I turned around and looked at her, but couldn’t remember having seen her before. Her brown hair was gathered in a ponytail. She was dressed in a white singlet that had a hard time covering her big breasts. The black skirt was tight around her chunky butt.  The pumps on her feet made her appear taller than she was, about the same height as me. I recognized her only when she smiled.

“I think you have a lot more money than me. Maybe you buy me a beer?” she said.

It was the woman from the showing, the woman with the red dress, which she certainly wasn’t wearing tonight.

“Sure”, I said. ”What do you want?”

“A Sam Adams Boston lager would be great.”

We made a toast, and talked about my apartment, that she liked so much.

That’s when I made my biggest mistake.

To be continued ...

(I took the picture in Battery Park New York about a month ago. I have no idea who the woman in the red dress is)

Disappointed?

Some days ago I bought a new pair of sneakers. I tried them after work today at the gym. I didn't run any faster. My endurance wasn't any better.

I was very disappointed.

Money can't buy me running ability, and happiness?  Tomorow I will go back to the store to complain.

After my exercise, I went to the university to attend a guest lecture on astrophysics and cosmology.

The lecture was in the big auditorium where I took my undergrad courses in calculus and complex analysis 25 years ago. Cool to be back.

I learnt that there are some 500 billion planets in our galaxy. Millions of them have conditions similar to the earth.

In the future, Mars will become like the Earth, and the Earth will become like Venus. On Venus the temperature is 400 degrees (Celcius).  The longterm weather forecast is not good. But this is still a billion years into the future.

The best things in life are for free; science, knowledge, maybe happiness ... and a couple of other things >;)

Shopping

This afternoon I did something that I hardly ever do. I went shopping. I bought a Hell of a lot of stuff.

This is what I bought:
o 1pair of shoes (for me)
o 2 pairs of sneakers (for me and little boy)
o 2 pairs of ski pants (for me and little boy)
o 1 pair of goggles (for me)
o 1 jacket (for little boy)

I bought as much in one day as I normally do in one year. It feels like I carry the entire consumer society on my back, alone

That's a heavy load.

Fortunately, I didn't pass by any bookstores >:)