Before I spoke, I studied him. He looked familiar, as in a long time childhood friend way. I grew up in a small Italian, Catholic, white, family-oriented town. Everyone knew us. He looked like one of the guys……like the kind in the earlier part of the movie Goodfellas. He has that younger DeNiro look, wearing a buttoned down Cuban style shirt and pants. His hair was slick and dark…. and he had a cute, sweet smile…..like he was flirting with you without even trying. I felt at ease with him. I didn’t know why….I just know I did.
I had this vision, just for one minute, of him speaking to me in a deep Italian, rough and tough guy type of way. I gazed all over him with that sly sweet smile, glancing at me for 15 seconds and slowly glancing away. He was just giving me a little when he knew I wanted a lot. I could not break my stare and it was obvious, but I did not care. I never cared about asking for what I wanted or telling someone how I felt, good or bad.
I think it was the whole image that intrigued me. The badge…..the voice…his demeanor, look and stance….it all added up to an intoxicating combination….and I was drunk. For those briefs moments that were only seconds, I was transformed back to a teenager. I was almost giddy, yet acting just as seductive without saying a word.
I remember thinking how I wish it could all be just that simple again.
No responsibilities….bills…kids…nothing. Nothing to worry about except how I was going to start talking to this guy. Just like in high school. When you were dying to go over to that one guy your father told you never to even think about seeing. He was the dangerous teenager your daddy warned you about….and the more daddy told you no….the more you wanted it.
He pulled out his wallet, only it wasn’t a wallet. It was a roll of money with a thick rubber band around it. All hundreds, fifties and twenties….just like my old neighborhood guys had. I don’t know why he did this. He was fingering through the cash, as if he was counting it, but there really was no need to. There wasn’t a store for at least a mile around here. It seemed odd to me, but unwantingly sexy. My family had money. I never wanted for anything, but money was never something I considered where a guy was concerned. I had the best sex ever with some of the most broke-ass guys. Go figure.
I finally spoke.
“What do you need all of that money for?”, I simply stated.
“It’s bond money.”, he replied, tilting his head slightly with that sweet and sly smile that I could now not do without. He took out a pack of Camel no-filters and flipped one into his mouth. He lite a match still the the pack and proceeded to light is cigarette and blew it out. He put the pack and matches into his back pocket. He noticed I was smoking before.
“Do you want one?”, he softly offered.
I don’t smoke Camels. I prefer Parliment lights….always have for years, but I wanted a reason to get closer to him.
“Sure”, I replied in that same soft voice. I could be just as coy and flirty without trying too, if I wanted to.
He started to walk over to me. He was only about twenty or so feet away. There was no other noise except for his footsteps. It was the middle of Lake county. No buses, trucks and only the occasional car. I was getting nervous, but didn’t show it. He walked slowly and methodically….almost deliberate. It seemed to take forever. He smiled the whole time…he knew what he was doing. There was a method to his madness and he knew how to use it. He finally made it over to me, took out his pack of Camels again and I looked down. I stopped breathing for a second.
He had more that just a pack of Camels in his hands.