A recent business trip I took to Boston resulted in a mad dash to McDonald’s after a meeting I attended went too long with too little food.
The quickest route to ending my hunger was delayed when an Indian woman entered the premises before me. I observed her behavior, which contrasted with my deep yearning for nourishment. She paused upon entering the building, gazed at the surroundings in a slow and lingering manner. She behaved like it was her first visit ever to McDonald’s. Her eyes canvassed the room looking for something or someone in a manner befitting of a sloth looking for a banana in a distant tree.
She then did the opposite of what I expected. She walked towards the seating area. The counter was ten feet away. Why is she not getting food? Is she here for the scenery? I moved past the sloth and high-tailed it to grab a meal that resulted in zero ‘nourishment’ but plenty of sustenance.
I took a table and looked across the way to see a young twenty-something man with red hair stubble talking to a fifty-something Indian man. Odd. Then I noticed the sloth woman seated next to him. She’s not eating; she’s holding a new iPhone.
Now I’m very curious. I drop a limp French fry and lean forward to get a better look and I see an iPhone box. What circumstance could have brought this threesome together? There’s zero chemistry, casual banter and the woman ponders the rectangular black phone. Why is she so perplexed?
The young man mentions something about additional cords and headphones. Then it hits me - he’s trying to sell her the phone! In a McDonald’s… with no food… with what looks like original packaging. He looks suspicious, like a police mugshot in the flesh, befitting of a street punk. Then I realize… It’s a shady deal! Stolen merchandise, perhaps found through a Craig’s List classified ad. It wreaks like a hamburger accidentally dropped in deep fryer that roasted a little too long.
The punk finally tells the sloth, “Look, it is what it is, so take it or leave it.” I smirk. He’s trying to close the deal and the Indians are probably negotiating the price down. Right before the kid grabs the phone back, the Indian man takes out his wallet. Perhaps the punk got the best of them. Maybe the Indians paid half what he was asking for it. But somewhere in New England, a legal phone call is being made on a not-so-legal phone, purchased in a dirty McDonald’s restaurant.
Ma’ Bell would not approve.
Flash forward to 7:45 p.m.: my 45-minute flight back to New York turned into a four-hour-delay, which resulted in a cramped hotel room at the Omni Parker in downtown Boston. No clothes, no toiletries and I’m at a CVS three blocks from the hotel to grab necessities. A toothbrush, toothpaste and deodorant is all I need.
Being a man has its perks.
Then I spot a couple in the aisle next to me as I pass by. They are both young, very attractive, and fussing over something on a nearby shelf. The young vixen giggles. She’s blonde and he’s got short-cropped dark hair that is further down his forehead than back. I’m not sure either of them are twenty years old. They huddle close to one another when the boy-man puts one product down and takes another.
Now of course, I have to see what these two are up to. I swing around and outflank them and peer around an end-aisle display of soup. Their backs are to me and I have a clear line of sight to the products they are considering.
It’s sex lube! A combo pack for him and for her, then another product with pinkish ooze. I can see the anticipation in their movements. They take down a package, then another and another: comparing… wondering… and gazing into one another’s eyes. I scream out, “You better not knock her up, man-boy!”
No, I didn’t say that, but I chuckled as I left the two of them to their own lubricated devices.
On my flight home I think about the couple. My dad instincts take the wheel of my mind for a drive. Did their parents know what was going on? Were the adults away for the weekend and the young couple had an apartment all to themselves? Is she on the pill? Is she going to deliver a newborn in nine months?
Then I think about the circumstances from their point of view. Those two probably had the greatest night of their lives! Wild… uninhibited… SEX! Tons of it! In the bed, on the floor, over and behind from the couch! Enhanced with multiple coatings of lubrication for fast traction or copasetic reactions. First comes rug burn, then a table lamp hits the floor –
“Oof! Did you knock that over or was that me?”
“Never mind! Get back at it! NOW!”
Maybe they got a hotel room for the special occasion. Perhaps they saved their money for just one night away from the clutches of their parents. They will never forget it!
When one of them is old and gray, in his or her bed after a late-afternoon Bingo session at the local-elder center, something will spark the memory of that night in Boston. One of them will say It felt like yesterday, but it was so many years ago.
And when one of them ponders, he or she will smile… and smile… and smile some more.
Good for them.