As told by Gregory Simpson
The first time I saw her was on the Chicago Elevated platform at Division Street. We were obviously headed in the same direction so, I kind of followed her until she got off at the Lake Street stop in the Chicago Loop. It wasn’t my stop but I was so taken with this beautiful creature, I found myself following her until she arrived at the Wentworth building. She met two other beautiful women as she went in which wasn’t coincidental, they knew each other and obviously very well.
After they entered the building I waited and followed to check out the building directory for any clues. The Infinity Modeling Agency stuck out like a sore thumb. That had to be where she worked. I went to work and thought about this beautiful creature the entire day. When the workday ended I could not help myself and headed back to the Wentworth building. And sure enough, within an hour she exited the building and headed for the ‘L’ stop.
I thought I was being unobserved until we arrived at the station stairway when she stopped and turned around, blocking my way. “Are you following me,” she said with a beautiful smile.
I was completely flummoxed and said no and then said, “Kind of.”
“What’s your name?”
“Greg. Greg Simpson.”
“I’m Gloria Beckway. Where are you headed?”
“Home.”
“Which is where?”
“A block away from the Division stop.”
“I thought I saw you this morning. Well, Mr. Simpson . . . shall we?” She laughed, turned and began climbing the stairs.
We chatted the entire way to the Division stop. She asked so many questions I finally asked, “Are you trying to find out if I’m a masher.”
Her eyes widened as she broke out in laughter. “Greg, I haven’t heard that term since I beat the hell out of a guy making unwanted advances.”
I backed up a little as I looked at her shoulder bag. “You actually beat him up?”
“I did. It wasn’t fatal but I’m sure he never forgot it.”
“Karate?”
“No, my daddy put me into self-defense class when I was twelve.”
“Do you think I’m a masher?”
“No, you seem to be an ok guy.”
The train pulled into the station.
“Well, Gloria, it’s been nice talking with you.” I began to move away from her.
“Don’t be shy Greg. I’ve enjoyed it also. Let’s have lunch someday.”
I smiled, said thanks as I put more distance between us.
We did have lunch several times but I was unable to find out if she was available for anything other than lunch. Was she playing me . . . for lunch? She didn’t eat that much so the cost wasn’t a problem. But when I asked her out to dinner she smiled and said that wouldn’t be possible.
The last lunch we had together was on Valentine’s Day. I gave her a card which surprised her. She seemed very grateful until I noticed she left it behind on the table when we left the restaurant.
I had the feeling she was fooling, she was just having fun with me. Maybe it was all hocus pocus on her part. She probably was laughing up her sleeve by the way she manipulated me. My feelings were slightly bruised but that was to be expected when you played the game – especially with beautiful women.
I changed my routine in riding the elevated and never saw her again. It was probably all make-believe on her part and she didn’t miss me. But, she’ll always have a special place in the album of my memories.
THE END
Realistic Fiction
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