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                                                               c MMIX TommyBooks.com

                                 Never Will Forget

   It's Christmas in the Canary Islands. A great time to be here because everyone's in a good mood and feeling the spirit of the season while enjoying pleasant 80 degree temperatures.

   Everyone but me.

   I'm an international tour director and I'm working the trip from hell. Here's a hint. My tour group of 256 vacationing Bostonian teachers does not have a guaranteed return flight back to the USA. Over the busiest travel week of the year I am scrambling to find 256 available seats back to Boston. But I'm not going to get into all that now. I'm just mentioning this to put my story into context. Instead I want to share with you a sexy, sexy memory from that wretched week.

   At 2:45 in the early morning of January 2, my bags are packed and I am nervously pacing my hotel room. I am waiting for a call from Jean Pierre, my local guide, telling me that our buses have arrived at the hotel for my groups inhumane 3:30 am departure to the airport. I had performed a tentative miracle and had found the necessary seats to get my group home. Now I have to deliver.

   My pacing and musing is interrupted by the sound of a women's high heel shoes clacking on the concrete balcony outside my bedroom door. I know there's no one on my balcony so it must be the German babe who has been staying in the room next to mine for the past week. We share a very large balcony, separated only by a two foot tall flower box.

   As tough as this trip has been for me, the German girl has only added to my nightmare. She is a beauty. Tall, blond and exquisitely proportioned. She was a knockout in her red bikini laying out by the pool during the day or dressed to hit the discos at nite. She also had a boyfriend who shared her room and I could hear them passionately going at it for hours every night while I was either burning the midnight oil working to correct the many problems on my tour or burying my head in my pillow in a futile attempt to muffle her moans while I tried to grab some much needed sleep.

   Her week was spent enjoying all that the Canary Islands were famous for while I spent every waking moment tumbling deeper and deeper into a bottomless black hole called work. She knew who I was because the whole Island was abuzz with rumors regarding the massive problems my group was experiencing. She and I had also made eye contact throughout the week, but only in passing because the boyfriend was always hovering nearby.

   Now as I'm listening to her walking out on the balcony I realize that I haven't heard or seen him at all today. Maybe he's gone? Maybe I should just stick my head outside and say “hi”. Can't hurt.

   I step outside and there she is. Alone. Illuminated by a full moon. Smoking a cigarette. In high heels. And Naked.

   Oh! My! God!

                                                                  To be continued