My gracious host, and my precarious situation (part three)

Continued from part two...

Day three in Nashville, cohabitating with my attractive new roommate, Karyn. Morning. After using the shower, Karyn dressed in the bathroom. Just like the previous morning, she again kept quiet and resisted turning on the lights near the beds.

Because I had enjoyed better rest, I was coherent enough to bid her good morning. We talked about how well we slept, and I commented that she hadn't laughed. She said that must have been because she passed out right away, which I verified.

She told me there was a free continental breakfast downstairs in the lobby until 10, and I said I would probably "rock that out." She asked if that meant I would be going downstairs with her. She was already fully dressed. I was in a T-shirt and a pair of shorts I really wouldn't want to be seen wearing in public. I shrugged, donned the pants I had on the night before, and said I was ready whenever she was.

From this moment on, I felt strangely as though we were a married couple. And she was my hot wife. She looked hot in that little dress she had put on for work. But I didn't tell her so. I tend not to, following the advice of some aloof guy I used to work with. Girls like mystery, he says. If you don't pay them the compliments they expect, they wonder what's wrong with them that they haven't earned your compliment! It drives them nuts, he says, and then the next thing you know, you have them eating out of your hand!

Not that this technique has ever worked for me, mind you. Ever since this guy started training me in his ways, I haven't gotten far along enough into any relationship to deny compliments. Nevertheless, I thought Karyn looked hot. Better than she had in D.C. when we met up four days earlier. But I wasn't telling her that. Also didn't want to rock the boat.

But because I felt like there we were, in some hotel lobby, cinnamon toast and the morning paper, cups of coffee and tea, and time to see her off to work, we were married. In an out-of-person experience, I could see myself as the disaffected husband giving her a peck on the cheek before she left. That would have been so fitting! So right. But for another couple at another time and at another place. Not us, not now, not here.

I did more of a wave as she took off to go about her day. And I watched in awe as Karyn and her hot little ass trotted toward the front door.

I'm back in bed two hours later when I get a text message from Karyn. She named a time and place for lunch and said she would pick me up at the hotel. Fine with me. As usual, I had no plans of my own. My doubts about moving to Nashville were keeping me from getting up and out there, experiencing Nashville and finding my destiny. But I liked her idea instead: Blow a lunch hour together.

This was my day for hopping back on a Greyhound, so our time together was limited. And it would be good to talk about the night before. And now that I didn't have any more chance of being deprived of an overnight stay, I could speak with her more candidly about whether or not I should have been more proactive with her at any time during our stay.

She pulled up in her rental car at the front door of the hotel right on cue. I hadn't been waiting outside for even 20 seconds when I saw Karyn behind the wheel of her Cobalt with Illinois plates. And it wasn't all that hot out for a change, just nice.

Karyn and I headed off by car to Sonic, more fast food that was new to me. I let her order her own lunch, and I just duplicated whatever she got. I was in a copycat mood. It ended up being a chicken salad with huge portions. She also ordered some mini bites -- three fried apple bites with cinnamon dipping sauce (labelled "drizzle") and three fried macaroni bites. She knew what she was talking about!

We also each ordered specially made caramel mocha something-somethings with tons of sugar, tons of sweets, tons of whipped cream, tons of calories, and an extra shot of espresso. These came in a cardboard container she put up front, right behind the gear shift. There's no indoor dining at a Sonic; you eat inside your car in their parking lot or drive off and eat it elsewhere. Like, for locals, at home. Or in our case, some other parking lot. Well, as she put the gear in reverse to back out of our space at Sonic, she crushed both of the caramel mocha something-somethings, and off came both lids as both sugary concoctions spilled down the sides of the cups and out into the box, and eventually down onto the Budget car's plastic interior.

We laughed hysterically about this repeatedly for the remainder of Karyn's lunch hour. Between bouts of laughter, I took a moment to tell her I wanted to hook up with her the previous night but kept myself from doing it because I didn't want to jeopardize my housing situation. She said that was a good enough reason not to. We even laughed about the stupidity, or simplicity, of my reasoning and the whole precarious situation I had been in for the last couple of days.

We did get some more alone time together in the hotel room in the afternoon before she got me to the Nashville bus station. In fact, I considered it a slightly encouraging sign when I received her text message, saying, "c u soon. fluff the pillows." Very interesting!

With nothing else to lose, I pressed my luck with her quite a bit more than I had before. Sorry to disappoint, but I must leave the rest to your imagination. I will, however, say this: The only restraints were the ones two consenting adults put on themselves. We emerged happy and unscathed, and I believe we will see each other again soon.