Rex

The Next Evening

I meet Elsa at Pier 51 which is a place I haven’t visited in several years. We used to hang out here when I was a teenager. Cindy told me that Elsa is a former gymnast, so I’m glad to see that she still has the gymnast body. Shoulder length brown hair, big brown eyes and a muscular build. The way she fills out her yoga pants in back, she obviously has a great gymnast butt as well. I’ve always been a fan.

“Hopefully the crab legs are still good at the Crab Pot.” After a carousel ride and Wings Over Washington, I’m ready for some dinner. “Wings Over Washington was pretty cool huh?” I ask as we enter the restaurant and are escorted to an open table.

“Yeah, I heard it was opening this week, so that’s what made me think of coming here. You’ll probably start out with some oyster shooters, huh?” she teases as we slide up to a table covered by a checkered paper table cloth. “Or maybe you don’t need the extra boost.”

“My sex drive has never been an issue.” I chuckle at the thought. “Having too much of one is probably more of an issue.” I glance down at her legs as she slides them under the table. Well toned legs like hers make my testosterone run wild. Those old Birkenstocks need to be retired though. I wonder if those things were originally brown or if that’s just from all the grit. I know some people really love their Birki’s, but those are long overdue for an upgrade. They really don’t go with yoga pants either.

“I’m sorry, but they’re so comfortable,” she says when I look up. “My mother absolutely despises them, which is probably the real reason I insist on wearing them.” She shrugs and turns her attention to the menu. “So your favorite is the crab?”

“Yeah, I always used to order the snow crab, but it’s been years. Hopefully it’s still good.” I glance through all the seafood options. “It’s two pounds, so we could start with one order and go from there.”

“Sure. I don’t think I’ve ever shared a meal with a guy,” she comments, her eyes scanning my face. “I love your eyes. Their the same color as my first boyfriend. My only real boyfriend.”

“Thanks. So it was a long term relationship?” I take her menu and slide both of them to the corner of the table.

“We’ve dated on and off since I was sixteen.” Her eyes fall away as she grips her water glass. “He just told me he got engaged. She’s a total bitch. We went to school with her.”

“I’m sorry, Elsa.” I take a sip of my water, hoping that she will continue talking.

“I always thought we would end up together,” she continues. “He was like my back up plan. Whenever something else fell through, I could always go back to him and he would take me back.”

“Honestly, that’s not a very healthy situation. Didn’t he feel a little used?” I ask, perplexed at why she would expect him to keep doing it. “It had to be tough on his self esteem to keep watching you date other people.”

“Yeah, but he always knew it was part of the deal. I’ve just never found someone who satisfies me, if you know what I mean.” She looks down at the table following the admission. “I think there’s something wrong with me. That’s why I’m here, I guess. I want to know that there’s more out there than what I’ve experienced.”

“That makes sense,” I agree, our server approaches the table. “We’ll start with an order of snow crab and I want a Lagunita’s IPA. What would you like?” I ask Elsa.

“A tequila shooter and a Fat Tire in a bottle.” She wags her eyebrows, probably as a warning that things are about to get real. Which is fine since I used some credit card points to book a room at the Marriott near by. “Just so you know, tequila makes me crazy.”

“Great. I like crazy,” I reply, hoping that it’s the good kind of crazy and not the off the rails variety. For the next hour we eat crab with crusty French bread and drink, while she tells me about all the guys who have failed her. By the end of our second order of crab legs, I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll be yet another disappointment for her. I can’t imagine that none of these other guys had what it takes to please her. It just doesn’t seem possible.

“Well, thanks for indulging me tonight,” she says, holding up her third tequila shooter to tap my glass. “I really needed this. I couldn’t stand the idea of dressing up and going to another bistro or sushi bar. That carousel ride was a blast. I haven’t done anything like that in years.”

“Me either. Like I said, we came here a lot when I was a teenager,” I reply, clinking her glass. “I haven’t thought of coming here in years.” In fact, I was probably still playing football the last time I ate at the Crab Pot. “Their snow crab is still delicious.”

“Yeah. It’s hard to fuck up crab as long as it’s fresh and you don’t over cook it,” she says dryly before slamming her shooter and chasing it with her remaining beer.

“Excuse me,” a gray haired woman says, approaching our table. “Were you referring to the carousel over at Miner’s Landing?”

“Yeah,” we both reply nodding our heads in unison.

“The first time I was there was in May of 1989 when it was quite new. I was there with two friends and after the ride, they went around to the back of the pavilion to use the rest room. As I stood leaning against a planter, I notice a homeless man approaching. He was bearded and scruffy with an oversized army coat and was carrying a green paper cup,” she says, looking up as if she is seeing him right now. “He walked straight up to me and instead of asking for anything, he handed me the cup. Inside was a small bunch of yellow pansies. He gently squeezed my hands, leaned in close and said ‘Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady whose heart is breaking’.” Her eyes tear up as she recants the story. “He was right. My heart was breaking. My baby girl had died six months earlier at OHSU in Portland, Oregon after being on life support for weeks.” A sad smile crosses her face as a lone tear weaves its way down her cheek. “I still have those pansies,” she adds wiping the stray tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to share the story. Seattle is filled with angels like the one I encountered that night. You just have to keep an eye out for them.”

“I agree,” I reply, choking up a bit myself. “Thanks for the great story.” I smile as she turns and goes on her way. “Wow, that was amazing.” I’ve never had something like that happen to me. Especially in the middle of a restaurant.

“And very random,” Elsa adds with widening eyes. “Did she think we were in need of an angel or something?”

“I think we could all use an angel now and then.” I tip my beer and finish off the glass. “You ready to walk to the hotel?”

“Is that where you parked your car?” she asks, seeming confused.

“Yeah, I had some points that were expiring so I got a room for the night,” I explain. “If you want to go home later, I’ll give you a ride. I don’t like drinking and driving.”

“That’s cool. After what I read online, I most likely won’t want to go home anyway.” She flashes me a sexy smile and hip checks me on the way out the door.

“What did you read online?” I ask, having heard the same phrase used by others recently.

“You haven’t heard of the Sex with Rex Facebook page?” she asks, looking at me like I’m completely clueless. “Seriously? It has thousands of followers.” My mind begins spinning as we enter Waterfront Park on the way toward the Seattle Aquarium.

“So, what are people saying?” I ask, sensing a vulnerability that had never crossed my mind. “Are they clients of mine or what?”

“Yeah, lots of your old clients are in there, but there are lots of curious lurkers too. Like me.” She giggles. “I’ve been on there since early this summer. I wasn’t totally sold until I read all the posts by a girl named Sammy. You rocked her world. That’s when I asked Dr. Farris about you.”

“I have a new client that seems to know Sammy. Is there someone named Jessica who’s on there?” I ask, cringing a little inside.

“Oh yeah, that chick is cray cray and she wuvs you,” she says, jabbing my side with a sharp elbow. “Sammy, her and some other chick were all comparing notes a couple nights ago. I didn’t see what conclusions they came to, but apparently they all thought that you were a big tease. You told each of them how much you enjoyed your time with them and then blew them off.”

I laugh out loud. “I’m sorry. But that’s the nature of the business. When your time is up, it’s over. Jessica and Sammy both thought we were dating or something. I’m a sex surrogate, not their boyfriend for fuck sake.” I feel my blood pressure rising as the thought of them talking about it online begins to sink in. “I’m going to search for that page when I get home. I’ll go in there and put a stop to it.”

“If they let you in,” she says with a wry smile. “I can’t imagine they would. It’s a private group.”

“Really? Blocked from a group that’s about me?” My blood pressure just ramped another ten points. “Okay, I don’t want to ruin the night, so I’m just going to forget you told me about it.”

“Yeah, I don’t want you thinking about them.” She grasps my arm with both hands and pulls me close as we walk past the aquarium. “I want you focused on showing me what I’m missing out on.”

I’ll show her alright. I’m going to fuck her silly and then throw those ugly ass sandals in the garbage can. I’ve always been good at channeling my frustration into sexual energy, so she’ll be thanking her lucky stars that I didn’t indulge in any oyster shots earlier.