Last summer I got to feeling restless, and decided that a road trip by myself would be the best course of action. I vowed to set out on my own, just me, my car, and no inhibitions. I wanted to experience a different part of life, a different culture, and was willing to go with whatever came my way. In a sense I saw myself as a Yes Man, one who would turn down no opportunity. With inhibitions shed, the car packed, and a fair amount of money in my wallet, I set off.
As I breezed through the New England states and made my way south, I started feeling more and more free. Once I crossed the Mason Dixon line I stopped for a sweet tea, a burger, and a dose of southern hospitality. I was dressed well, but not too well. I fit in, and felt at peace.
As my burger arrived and I made small talk with the waittress, the relaxed nature of the southern way of life wafted over me like the smell of blueberry pancakes on a crisp fall morning. I enjoyed the rest of my day in this small town, then the next morning decided that I liked the south, and wanted to see what a slightly larger city felt like.
As I arrived in the iconic town of Boone, North Carolina, I knew that I had found that which I did not know I was seeking. My first stop in town was at a local mom & pop ice cream joint, where I ordered a medium vanilla cone from a pimply faced teen with pigtails. I sat down on a picnic table covered in dried ice cream splotches, which gave it the look of an impressionistic painting. Beautiful I thought, as I contemplated the universe.
Enjoying the shade from the overhanging sugar maple tree, licking my ice cream, and watching a bird hop around the branches, I barely registered the well dressed woman who casually sat down across from me. Suddenly I heard "That's an Eastern Towhee." "What?" I asked, confused and snapping out of my daydream. "An Eastern Towhee" she said, gesturing at the bird I had been contemplating. "It is lovely, and you should hear it sing! No sweeter sound in all the south."
I remembered how I had vowed to make the most of every situation and encounter, and asked her how she came to be so knowledgeable about the natural world. "Oh," she laughed, "I did a stint as an ornithology assistant back in my undergrad days." Looking at her more critically, I wondered just how long ago her undergrad days were. She really was well built, well dressed, and possessed that alluring southern charm.
A slight wind picked up, and the Eastern Towhee took flight. The woman excitedly gestured at it, saying "Look! See its underwing coverts?" Unfortunately she was caught up in the moment, and failed to realize that she was gesturing with the same hand that held her ice cream. As the Eastern Towhee flew away, so did her ice cream, adding one giant splotch to the mosiac on the picnic table.
She laughed, and I offered to buy her another ice cream, to repay her for her knowledge of the avian world. "No bother" she said, adding that "I guess I wasn't really in the mood for ice cream anyway. My meeting got cancelled and I just needed to kill some time. Perhaps I'll go grab some real food."
Was I mistaken, or had that last sentence had a hint of an invitation attached to it? "You know" I said, "I'm a bit hungry myself. Have any suggestions for some local cuisine?"
We left my car at the ice cream shop, and headed to a charming little restaurant, where she delighted in ordering for me. We compared stories, she took an interest in my travels, and we got on as old friends would. Somewhere in there she slipped in that she had a son, but that he was in school and headed to a sporting event of some sort afterward. I was still just along for the ride, seeing where the day would take me. I had no expectations, and really no agenda.
The hours passed, we went for a walk in the park (she identified several other birds for me, delighting in her knowledge at each one), and I was at peace. I think I set her at ease as well. It seemed like we had found bliss, I from my usual routine back east, and she from her hectic work life.
As the sun fell low in the sky, she asked what my plans were. I said "None really, wherever the wind blows me I suppose." Instantly regretting uttering such a tired cliche, I grinned sheepishly. She laughed, and put forth a statement I shall never forget: "Why don't we take a drive, and see if we can find somewhere a little more private." It was a statement, not a question. I started thinking of all the ways this was wrong. Was she married? I knew she had a kid. She was older...But then I thought back to my resolve to just go with things, and besides, she really was quite attractive.
Our drive to "see if we can find somewhere a little more private" was not winding or casual. She knew where she was going, and we soon arrived at the Hilton. Knowing better than to question, or even to speak, I just followed along behind her, although I did remember to open the door. She booked a room, we headed upstairs, and she said that she was tired and sweaty, and needed a refreshing shower. "Would you care to join me?"
I will stop here, as things went better than in any cheesy Hollywood version of this oft-hoped-for story. She made me feel better than I ever have, the hands of experience guiding me to new ways of enjoying life. As it grew late and there was a lull in the action, she told me that I was free to keep the room for the night. I hadn't thought about it, but remembered that she had a son she had to get home to. "Of course" I said, "I understand." She made sure I had money for a cab to get me back to my car the following morning, kissed me lightly on the lips, and left me lying there, never more content in my life.
We exchanged numbers and e-mail addresses, but knew we would never do anything more. I looked her up online when I got a chance, and saw that she was a successful businesslady. Her son was involved in local sports, and had made the paper the prior winter for some skiing competition. After this encounter, I returned home, knowing that I had found that which I had been seeking. And this concludes the story of my magical day with citizensnip's mom.
