Afternoon Delight

Mission 1. Hook up with someone as old as my mom (54) and as young as my sister (20) in a month.
Mission 2. Live a completely gay lifestyle (without the gay sex) for a month.
Mission Three: Live without an apartment for a month.

My eyes opened to black. They closed again. It was not much difference either way. I reached out as my hands became my eyes, searching for an answer. Was the amazing sex last night part of a dream or a drunken stupor? The percale sheets held the answer. Absence. My arm felt nothing but threadcount.

I looked at the clock, fully expecting a revival of the three-number scenario that had become a recurring player in my life. But, the time was 12:15. The 12:15 when most people eat lunch. I felt sweaty, tired, hungover. I needed food, rest, shower, sex and water. But not in that particular order. I fell back to sleep.

I crawled out of my tomb about 45 minutes later, feeling much better. This was the latest I had slept since college. I felt confused and lost, but at least my head was not spinning. I opened the door of my pitch black room to reveal a giant living space. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the harsh sunlight that masked the neon nighttime spectacle of Las Vegas Blvd. I sat at a hand-carved table, in a provincial hand-carved chair and picked up a leather-bound menu. I pressed a button on the phone and ordered a mimosa platter and veggie sandwich. The room was free, I thought. Let’s see how far I can milk this.

I paced the room, not taking my eyes off the windows and what was beneath. I tried to retrace my steps, align the events to help me remember. This was becoming pattern behavior for me.

To the best of my recollection I rolled into bed last night at 5 am. I briefly contemplated women, but I was too tired and too drunk. I wanted to be able to remember the moment. I picked up my pants from the floor and pulled out a card. It was the courtesy card from one of the attendants that helped me procure this room. I called to thank him, and ask a question.

“This is Ben*.”

“Hey, Ben, this is Rob, the guy from roulette last night.”

“Yes, Rob, I remember you. How could I forget. Would you like me to arrange a game for you? Is everything ok with the suite?”

“Yes, it is perfect. I was just calling to thank you. It was a great gesture. I can’t think of a better way to spend my birthday than here,” I said, while looking around at the opulence. I felt out of place. The magnitude of this suite dwarfed me. I laughed as I thought about who would really need this much fucking room. Who even stays in their room but to sleep in Vegas.

“I am glad you are pleased, and happy birthday.”

“Ben, I have a favor to ask. I am going to an ‘event’ tonight, and I need to find a date. Is this something you could help me with?”

“Mr. Lowe, you should just go down to the pool. I guarantee you will have no problem finding someone there. Is that what you’re asking? For suggestions on where to meet girls?”

“Well, not exactly. I don’t really want to meet anyone. I think I just need an, um, professional. It is last minute and I’m sure they have the right attire. I just think that would be best.”

“Mr. Lowe, will you be in your room for the next 15 minutes?”

“Yes, I’m waiting for room service.”

“I will make a quick stop and come up. Is that OK?”

“That would be splendid.”

I had to laugh at myself. I totally sounded like I belonged, like I deserved to be called Mr. Lowe. “Splendid,” I thought. That was possibly the gayest thing I have ever said. I had to try to work that in again.

Five minutes later there was a knock on my door. I opened it.

“Room service.”

“That was quick, here is fine,” I said pointing.

I signed the check and gave the guy a $20. Probably low for this room, but he seemed actually pleased. Either he is a good actor, or rich guys generally tip for shit. I dug in.

As the waiter was leaving, Ben came though the door. He was in a blue suit and his hair was perfectly pressed. I got up to shake his hand, but he motioned for me to sit down.

“Please, continue,” he said.

I kept eating. I forgot to order the bread toasted. I hate when I do that. I put it down and poured a mimosa. I offered one to Ben, but he declined. I knew he would, but was just trying to be polite. But I guess I was being impolite.

“Mr. Lowe,” he said, “I thought we could continue our phone conversation here, rather than on the cell phone. It’s best to discuss matters such as these in person.

"Indeed,” I said, smiling inside. I still needed to work in splendid, though. This wordplay was becoming quite fun.

Ben handed me a business card.

“This is an agency that we sometimes use for hospitality issues. You just need to give them a call and tell them your needs.”

“Splendid,” I said. Aha.

“Yes, splendid. They are very respectable, but their services are quite costly. And you comp does not extend to those areas. I just wanted to make sure your stay was enjoyable and without any surprises. We also have less expensive companies that we can present if you desire.”

“Money is no object. Perhaps, I could send someone your way, as a token of my appreciation.” Again, I was smugly aware of every word I said, the “money” and “token” were phrases I always wanted to spin. I could talk to this guy all day.

“Thank you, but that will not be necessary. Just ask for Todd*, and tell him Ben sent you. You will be taken care of.”

“Well done. Thank you, and let me get something for your troubles,” I said as I handed him a $100 bill.

“That is very generous. Thank you. And we hope to see you later after your event. Do you play anything besides roulette? I could set you up with a late-night game of Baccarat or Poker if you’d like. You seem to be a night owl.”

“Oh yes I am, Ben, but that won’t be necessary. I will be down though. Look for me at the Wheel of Fortune slot. Love that game.”

He smiled, knowingly. “See you.”

I picked up the phone. I’m glad I didn’t do this last night, because now it would be over. I decided to do something different, afternoon sex. Sex in the light. Sex where I can see every perfect curve of these woman’s bodies. If I pay, I want to see. I dialed the phone.

Afternoon sex on my 30th birthday. I'm starting to like being thirty.

*names have been changed.