Party of the First Part
Fred L. Taulbee Jr.
Copyright 2011 Fred L. Taulbee Jr.
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I turned the knob, cringed from the pain in my forearm and opened the door. The first thing I thought when I saw her in the doorway was, ”Wow, my first groupie.” I had no idea whether Pulitzer Prize winners in Literature had groupies, but I guess in the back of my writing mind I had flirted with the possibility.
The second thing I thought was, “She’s not that good looking.” Her dark brown nearly black hair was drawn back in a ponytail low at the neck with a simple brown barrette. She was shorter than I liked, maybe 5’6’’. I didn’t necessarily like taller women, but I sure was thrilled by an Amazonian woman when I saw one. This shorter one though, wore a business suit, a jacket and skirt, dark gray with actual pinstripes, a white blouse with a black tie that was more like a bow or even an ascot. And she wore black framed glasses of the modern narrow kind that I detest.
I think there may have been some gray roots even, and at least one gray strand. It had probably just turned gray that very day because she looked like the details-oriented, penny-pinching, just-the-facts-ma’am kind of person. So I was sure she checked for grays nightly and dyed accordingly. In fact, she didn’t look like a groupie at all.