Chrisor

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Amateur

The day I first noticed Chrisor was the day I learned my newest manuscript had been accepted by my publisher. I was stoked because it meant I was finally back! I had a book-signing in an Upper West Side bookstore for the first novel I had in circulation since my two-year exile from the literary world and now my second was going to press. A mind-numbing case of writer’s block had put my budding career on hiatus, but my fortunes seemed to finally be turning. The enchanting young girl standing next to one of my readers caught my eye innocently enough. She bumped into the table I was sitting behind and knocked over the stack of books I was signing with personalized messages to a queue of my loyal readers. She was unfortunately not even familiar with my work, but her upper lip was so endearingly frosted with foam from the mocha latte’ she was sipping out of a Starbuck’s cup that her lack of literary acumen was one of any number of minor sins I could have forgiven her. She was simply adorable and adorably unaware of it. As her friend sidled up to my signing table and presented me with her copy of my latest book I was so distracted by her friend’s charms that I could barely keep the inscription she requested in my mind when an avalanche of hard-covers cascaded towards me. “Chrisor! Oh my GOD!” was all I heard, but in the confusion which ensued I wasn’t likely to forget the name of this beautiful young klutz, who in her effort to help contain the damage she had precipitated was even now making it worse by inadvertently spilling cafe’ latte’ all over my books! Her friend was mortified. My mood, still buoyed by my recent good news helped me take this minor calamity in stride and see the humor in having a river of hot coffee run over the edge of the table and onto my silk skirt. A flustered representative from the bookstore rushed over and without knowing quite what to do first helped to pull me out from behind the book-table which filled most of the alcove of a store-window display. By now even passersby walking outside the Broadway storefront could see the commotion going on inside the store window and a curious audience was gathering on the side-walk. They were mostly tourists I suspected, as indigenous New Yorkers were rarely phased by such minor catastrophes. While the store clerk was asking the indulgence of the people who had been patiently standing in line for my autograph, I took the opportunity to ask the two young ladies their names while pulling out Kleenex one-by-one and sharing them with the embarrassed young girl who was quickly trying to sop up spilled coffee from the dust-jackets of a tumbled pile of my books. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” I smiled, and helped blot up spilled coffee from the hounds-tooth fabric of Chrisor’s purse instead. “Are you from the city?” I asked to lighten the mood. “You’re kidding, right?” said Meghan, who after rolling her eyes behind Chrisor’s peripheral vision couldn’t for a moment believe either she or her clumsy friend could be mistaken for New Yorkers. “No, we’re here to check out a couple of colleges we plan to enroll in. She’s looking at Columbia and I’m interested in NYU.” she explained. “Both great schools!” I assured them. “Have you been to the campuses then?” “No! We just flew in this morning. Our hotel is two blocks down and I wanted to see Broadway first. We walked past and I saw your name in the window. I told Chris ‘I know her! I read her in high school!’, so I had to come in and, ummm… make a mess of your autograph table!” she said sheepishly and gave her friend a nudge in the ribs. “I’m SO sorry!” Chrisor finally got up the nerve to say after turning several shades of red. “Hey! Read my books like your bahis siteleri friend here and I’ll forgive you!” I laughed. We stood off to the side chatting while several of the staff from the store cleaned up the table and brought out a few more stacks of my book.”Have you two been wrecking shops all up and down Broadway, or is this your first?” I teased. “No,” said Chrisor, “Meg wanted to meet you in person so I thought I’d give you both something to remember each other by.” She smiled innocently and I knew her joking meant I had at least put them both at ease, but she immediately offered to pay for all the damaged books, albeit with some trepidation in her voice. I shook my head and told them they could make it up to me another way. “I’ve got no one to share dinner with after I’m through here, and I hate eating in restaurants alone.” I said. “Why don’t you both join me for dinner? I just signed another book deal today so I have something to celebrate and no one to celebrate with. It’ll be my treat!” They looked at each other and both seemed excited by the offer. “We accept!” exclaimed Chrisor, speaking for both of them. “Listen!” I said, “I’ve got to get back to signing autographs, but I never finished inscribing your book, Meghan. You’ve got to give me some time to think up something witty to say about our awkward introduction. Take in some more sight-seeing up and down the street and come back around dinner time and I’ll have your book ready for you.” I promised. My two new friends jostled their way out through the crowd which had accumulated around my table and they were giggling and animated as school girls. After I had settled back into my routine of signing flyleaf inscriptions, Meghan and Chrisor waved at me through the glass from the sidewalk outside and I smiled and shewed them on their way. I kept Meghan’s book off to the side and kept thinking about what to jot down about our brief encounter, but I was seriously thinking of the prospects of a more intimate message and hoped I might have a reason for writing one if I waited awhile. I was hoping Meghan was even now telling Chrisor the subject matter of my books so she would at least know that my field of interest (and expertise) was the awakening of young girls’ interests in lesbian love. At least I wouldn’t be dining alone! Several more monotonous hours of monogramming passed and having met a good number of my fans who were both flattering and flirtatious, I found myself eager to see the lovely face of the one girl I’d met this afternoon who had never even cracked open one of my books. And just when I began to forsake the prospect of their ever coming back, they re-appeared, bobbing their heads out so I could see them moving towards me through the trailing end of the line. I signed one last book and looked up at them with a smile. “At last!” I sighed. “I’m famished!” “You know, you’re nothing like I expected,” Chrisor exclaimed with the exuberant enthusiasm of an eighteen year-old. “When Meghan dragged me into the bookstore and I saw the line we’d be standing in, I wasn’t picturing an author quite so young and attractive signing autographs. You don’t look much older than us!” Having just hit the big three-0, her words couldn’t have been a better balm to my age-conscious psyche! We were waiting for the light to change at the busy intersection of Broadway and Seventy-seventh on our way to the Manhattan Diner right across the street from my hotel. I had Meghan’s book under my arm as we walked across the street together and claimed the right to keep hold of it until those special words came to me. “Where are you staying?” I asked conversationally after we’d been seated at a booth in the crowded canlı bahis siteleri restaurant. “The Riverside Tower,” Meghan groaned, “About 2 blocks down from Broadway on Eightieth.” “Its a DUMP!” agreed Chrisor. “Its so close to the freeway we’ll never get any sleep and the rooms are so small and run-down its like someplace you’d go to commit suicide!” I pictured her dismal description of the run-down hotel in my mind as if bookmarking the setting for a scene I could use later in a story. She seemed really dis-heartened about their accommodations and I made a frowny-face in sympathy. “I always stay at OTA across the street when I come to Manhattan. There are a lot of old hotels here on the Upper West Side that haven’t been renovated for awhile. On-The-Ave is charming however. You should cancel at Riverside and get a room over here tomorrow night!” I suggested. “I’ll take you over after dinner and see if they have something available for you tomorrow night.” They seemed relieved at the prospect of better accommodations and we chatted about things to do and see in Manhattan while they were in town. They were so animated and interested in everything, I knew they’d become converted Manhattanites just as I had on my first visit. We discussed their choice of universities and their academic interests, their families and their hometown, and even though they kept coming back to me and my writing career, I was a bit hesitant to go down that road until I’d established a more personal understanding of where these attractive young girls were in there lives, socially and sexually. Choosing Manhattan for their education was a good indication that they wanted to be exposed to a sophisticated and worldly environment and I was anxious to show them the city I loved. And in a city full of beautiful young women, they would fit right in! I started with the basics. “Have you got a Metro-card yet?” I asked. “A what?” Meghan replied. I pulled out my black and yellow card from my purse and waved it absently in the air. “It will get you on all the buses and subways. Its the first thing you pick up when you hit New York!” I smiled. “There’s a machine in the subway station two blocks up!” We covered the groundwork for a safe and successful stay in New York. I gave them some simple tips to avoid being taken for tourists, and then I ventured into the territory I was really curious about. “Do you two lovely ladies have boy-friends?” I winked. Another groan from Meghan seemed to indicate it was a sore subject with both of them. “I just broke up with mine two months ago and I wish Chrisor would dump the jerk she’s been putting up with for way too long. We come from a small town. There’s not much to choose from.” Meghan lamented. “You don’t have that problem, do you?” she smiled. “No, and I see you’ve read between the lines of my books,” I deduced. “I don’t get it it. What do you mean?” Chrisor queried innocently. “Didn’t Meghan tell you what kinds of books I write?” I asked. “No! She’s been trying to get me to read one for months though!” Chrisor replied. Meghan gave me a curious look and I wondered if her recommendation was based on my writing abilities or something in my subject matter she wanted Chrisor to read. “She writes about lesbians, Chris!” Meghan blurted, as if subtlety had been exhausted. Chrisor’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly and I noticed her face was flushing ever-so-slightly as she hesitated before continuing the conversation. She looked at Meghan with a sideways glance as if something had just dawned on her and I began to feel sure that my books had given Meghan at least something to think about. Chrisor brushed a strand of her hair back and took a sip of her canlı bahis drink, never taking her eyes off me as she cleared her throat. “Wow!” she finally said with a curious smile. “No wonder there was such a line at the bookstore!” “Yeah, well… with the pervasiveness of the internet and social networks, the youth culture has made bi-sexuality the latest thing.” I explained. “You mean its cool to be a lesbian now!” Chrisor summed up. “Oh yes, otherwise I doubt I’d be where I am in my writing career. Its a fascinating subject to write about because I have always had what you might call a personal interest in the subject.” Chrisor gave me a quizzical ‘go-on…’ glance and I felt it was time to clarify. “I’m not a lesbian if that’s what you’re thinking,” I said. “I AM bi-sexual though, or ‘flexi-sexual’ if you’re into that new ‘hip’ term. It gives me the opportunity to enjoy the best of both worlds.”Meghan was staring straight at Chrisor now and I knew she was trying to read every nuance of her facial expressions. So I wasn’t the only one at the table who had my eye on Chrisor! “You two owe me the honor of showing you around the city. I’m only in town for my book-signing but New York’s like my second home, and you should really see the city as well as its universities,” I said. “Why don’t we run over next door and see about lining you up a proper room and then we can spend some time planning your sight-seeing itinerary.” The girls were exuberant about my idea and so was I! I picked up the check and then we pushed into the Saturday evening crowd bustling down Broadway. The Manhattan air was electric on Saturday nights with the sound of taxi-horns and traffic echoing in the canyons of tall buildings and I was eager to share my evening with these two lovely girls. We ran across at the light and down the windy shadows of Seventy-seventh Street to the entrance of my hotel. The girls were anxious to see my room to get some idea how they looked and I warned them in advance that I had splurged on a luxury suite in celebration of my new publishing contract, but no matter what the excuse, getting them alone in my room was a step in the right direction. After ascending to the sixteenth floor from the opulent lobby, the doors of the elevator opened onto a wide corridor that was enclosed in a glass wall on one side and a garden terrace softly lit by footlights and the glow of the city just beyond. We turned from that lovely sky-line vista which Meghan and Chrisor were completely enraptured by and I slid my key-card to open room 1602 around the corner. I knew that if the girls loved the terrace they would be enthralled by my room which was enclosed by floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides with a private terrace similar to the one with which they had just fallen in love. It was a penthouse suite facing west and when we opened the door we were greeted by a panoramic view of the sun setting over the Hudson River. The girls gasped! “This is why I wanted this room!” I exclaimed. The sixteenth floor of my hotel just cleared the tops of the buildings spanning the two blocks between Broadway and the river so the view of the Hudson and the New Jersey shore beyond was largely unobstructed. The shoreline lights twinkling in the water’s reflection mingled with the golden light of a beautiful sunset as it spread across the wide river. We all just stood transfixed by the sight. I slid the vertical blinds all the way down their track to the left so the view down Broadway could be appreciated too. The Ansonia Hotel in all its Victorian architectural glory could be seen just down the street at the point where Broadway bent in a dog-leg to the southeast, and the corner tower of the Upper West Side’s glorious old landmark was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. My two young guests were also swathed in the rich, warm light and my heart skipped a beat as it made their flawless skin glow in a sensuous warmth.

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