Teach
10-08-2017, 11:19 AM
"Playing Switchies"
"Hi Pardner," the voice called out. "Mind if I join ya?" the man with the cowboy hat continued. "Be my guest," I replied.
I was sitting on one of the bar stools at "The Fitz's" second-floor "watering hole" sipping on a Corona with a lime. I had just finished a long day of gambling: BJ, roulette, pai gow poker and VP, and oh yes, the "ponies," plus a few sports bets. A chance to unwind. A quiet place -- an oasis -- in the midst of this gambling mecca, Las Vegas. The year was 1988.
The man with the cowboy hat -- oh I'd put him in his 50s -- sitting in the bar stool next to me began to engage me in conversation. "Where y'all from?" he asked with his Texas twang. "Boston," I said. "Oh, yeah, Boston," he repeated. "Been there several times," he said. "Love your seafood," he continued. "What y'all do up in Boston?" he asked. I said, "I'm a high- chool teacher." "Whada teach," he continued. "History," I said. "That was my favorite subject." (How many times have I heard that?).
Well, this talkative stranger continued. "I'm from Texas" (as if I didn't know). "Big 'D'," he added. "That's Dallas." The stranger then said, "It's been so dry down in Dallas the trees are even beggin' the dogs. Get it, take a leak!" "Yeah, I get it," I said. The Texan then continued, "I work for Schlumberger; I'm here for an oil drillin' show over at the Convention Center. You've heard of Schlumbarger," he continued. "Yeah," I said. "Don't they make mattresses."
Seconds later, the Texan from "Big D" changed gears. He introduced himself. "Hey, I'm Dick and your name is...." "Walt," I said. "Walt," he continued, "How'd y'all like to meet some beautiful women?" he said. I replied, "I've been married for nearly 20 years. I'm not interested in adulterous relationships." "Come on, Son," the Texan said. "I know you Bostonians are prim and proper, but haven't you ever cheated on your wife?" Hey, ya know, 'played switchies'. You screw around with with one of your wife's friends; your wife has fun with her husband." "Can't say I've ever done that," I said.
Well, after the Texan takes a few sips of beer, our conversation continues. He says, "Walt, haven't you ever been tempted?" I mean are you some kind of eunuch?" I said, "Frankly, I have been tempted a few times. Once, my wife was out shopping when she asked me to return a portable sewing machine she had borrowed from our neighbor. Well, our neighbor was a curvaceous woman. Extremely attractive. She had a dynamite figure. I rang her doorbell (her husband was at work) and, seconds later, a coquettish, come-hither voice calls out, "Come in." The next thing I hear was "I've just stepped out of the shower. You've caught me in a compromising position." Well, for a moment, I was severely tempted. But, I left the sewing machine and walked out.
Oh, there was another time I was working at a Boston radio station. One of the women in the station's sales department looked like Marilyn Monroe. We chatted several times. We once even had lunch together (strictly business); that was as far as it ever went. Oh, I must have repressed it; we danced, close at a company Christmas office-party."
About this time, the Texan starts selling me on the idea of us double-dating with a couple showgirls he had met. As he continues, my mind begins to wander back twenty years (I was single, then) to the Kenmore Square section of Boston. At the time, I'm living in an apartment near Fenway Park and teaching history at a Boston high school. . As a way of unwinding, I would go to singles' bars two or three nights a week. I would call my bar visits "recon. missions". I was keepin' an eye out for attractive, single women.
One fall night, I was at a singles' bar called "Lucifer's." Monday nights are usually slow and this one was no exception. Women -- not just attractive women -- were as scarce as hen's teeth. As I recall, I was sitting at the bar sipping on a cold brew when this guy sits down next to me. We strike up a conversation. He introduces himself. He says his name is Stan. He's an office supplies salesman. He tells me he was at this office supplies show in Boston over the weekend where he met this very attractive model; she was working hospitality. He asks if I'd like to double-date. Stan wants to fix me up with an account-executive who works at a Cambridge, MA insurance company. I remember accepting his offer. I gave him my telephone number.
Well a week or two goes by. My chance meeting with Stan at "Lucifer's" is fast becoming a distant memory. Then, about two weeks after we had met, Stan calls me. Our conversation went something like this: "Walt, it's Stan, the guy you met at 'Lucifer's'. How'd you like to "double" this Saturday evening? The model I met at the office supplies show is available and the account exec. that I mentioned is interested in meeting you. So what do you say?" I said, "Fine." Stan then says, "Pick me up at 7 p.m. Saturday evening" (he then gave me his address). How's we do some bar-hopping on Harvard St. (near the Boston-Brookline line) sound?" Again, I said, "Fine."
That Saturday, I picked up Stan. We then picked up my date, the account exec. who lived in Cambridge with her parents. I recall that she was quite attractive. She was also very personable. The three of us then picked up Stan's date, the model, who lived in an apartment on Boston's Commonwealth Ave. I vividly recall that Stan went up to her apartment to get her. They both came down a few minutes later. It was tough to see as it was dark, but I could instantly tell (the dome light came on briefly) that this woman had striking features.
Well, minutes later, we stopped at a bar on Harvard St. near Commonwealth Ave. It was then that I got my first clear look at Stan's date. My heart skipped a beat. She was exquisite (I don't throw that word around lightly). Stunning!
Throughout the rest of the evening, I couldn't help but steal glances at this gorgeous creature. And, I might add, I sensed that she was actually looking at me. Oh, how I wish I could have held her, danced with her, kissed her; but my motto has always been: "You dance with the girl you brung." I was going to enjoy the evening - as best as possible - with the woman who was my date for the evening.
As it was growing late, we decided to hit one last bar for a "nightcap". Oh, about five or ten minutes later, the two women excused themselves to go to the ladies room. When they came back, a very surprising, almost unbelievably miraculous development occurred. Sue, the model, sat down next to me (My date sat next to Stan). Sue then asked me if I'd like to dance (the bar had a DJ). I calmly said, "Yes." Inside, I was jumping out of my skin. It was a slow dance. I remember holding her tightly. I was in heaven. It was a moment to savor. To remember.
Well, when our dance was over, Sue continued to sit next to me. My original date - her name was Joan - sat next to Stan. The girls had worked things out themselves. They had taken the initiative to: "play switchies." Oh, how glad I was they did. I remember at the time looking over at Stan. I was afraid he'd be disappointed at the developments, but he seemed very content. He would tell me later they he liked Joan but was afraid to initiate a relationship with her because Joan was, in large part, responsible for a lot of the business his company generated with the insurance firm. He thought that if they dated and things "went south," he might lose a big account. But now he told me "it was worth the risk."
As the evening wore down, I remember taking Sue up to her apartment. As we reached her apartment door, she turned toward me. I gave her a big kiss. I remember saying something like, "I hope to see you again." I remember her saying, "I hope so, too." I was on "Cloud-9".
Just then, my mind came back to the present at Fitz's bar as the Texan kept up his incessant babbling about us dating showgirls. As he was about to give up on me as a lost cause, I recall him saying, "Now you sure you've never 'played switchies'." I recall replying, "Come to think of it... There was this one time about twenty years ago." But then I quickly added, "I was single then."
As for Sue, I dated her one more time. Oh, I tried calling several times, but she was always busy. Not just with other dates, but modeling gigs, doing hospitality at conventions, trade shows, etc. She was a very busy girl. Oh, come to think of it, I did see her, one last time. Not in person. It was her picture in the newspaper. She was modeling a dress in a photo shoot for some Boston department store. Exquisite as ever.
Yes, In hindsight, I'll never forget that one and only time: "I played switchies".
"Hi Pardner," the voice called out. "Mind if I join ya?" the man with the cowboy hat continued. "Be my guest," I replied.
I was sitting on one of the bar stools at "The Fitz's" second-floor "watering hole" sipping on a Corona with a lime. I had just finished a long day of gambling: BJ, roulette, pai gow poker and VP, and oh yes, the "ponies," plus a few sports bets. A chance to unwind. A quiet place -- an oasis -- in the midst of this gambling mecca, Las Vegas. The year was 1988.
The man with the cowboy hat -- oh I'd put him in his 50s -- sitting in the bar stool next to me began to engage me in conversation. "Where y'all from?" he asked with his Texas twang. "Boston," I said. "Oh, yeah, Boston," he repeated. "Been there several times," he said. "Love your seafood," he continued. "What y'all do up in Boston?" he asked. I said, "I'm a high- chool teacher." "Whada teach," he continued. "History," I said. "That was my favorite subject." (How many times have I heard that?).
Well, this talkative stranger continued. "I'm from Texas" (as if I didn't know). "Big 'D'," he added. "That's Dallas." The stranger then said, "It's been so dry down in Dallas the trees are even beggin' the dogs. Get it, take a leak!" "Yeah, I get it," I said. The Texan then continued, "I work for Schlumberger; I'm here for an oil drillin' show over at the Convention Center. You've heard of Schlumbarger," he continued. "Yeah," I said. "Don't they make mattresses."
Seconds later, the Texan from "Big D" changed gears. He introduced himself. "Hey, I'm Dick and your name is...." "Walt," I said. "Walt," he continued, "How'd y'all like to meet some beautiful women?" he said. I replied, "I've been married for nearly 20 years. I'm not interested in adulterous relationships." "Come on, Son," the Texan said. "I know you Bostonians are prim and proper, but haven't you ever cheated on your wife?" Hey, ya know, 'played switchies'. You screw around with with one of your wife's friends; your wife has fun with her husband." "Can't say I've ever done that," I said.
Well, after the Texan takes a few sips of beer, our conversation continues. He says, "Walt, haven't you ever been tempted?" I mean are you some kind of eunuch?" I said, "Frankly, I have been tempted a few times. Once, my wife was out shopping when she asked me to return a portable sewing machine she had borrowed from our neighbor. Well, our neighbor was a curvaceous woman. Extremely attractive. She had a dynamite figure. I rang her doorbell (her husband was at work) and, seconds later, a coquettish, come-hither voice calls out, "Come in." The next thing I hear was "I've just stepped out of the shower. You've caught me in a compromising position." Well, for a moment, I was severely tempted. But, I left the sewing machine and walked out.
Oh, there was another time I was working at a Boston radio station. One of the women in the station's sales department looked like Marilyn Monroe. We chatted several times. We once even had lunch together (strictly business); that was as far as it ever went. Oh, I must have repressed it; we danced, close at a company Christmas office-party."
About this time, the Texan starts selling me on the idea of us double-dating with a couple showgirls he had met. As he continues, my mind begins to wander back twenty years (I was single, then) to the Kenmore Square section of Boston. At the time, I'm living in an apartment near Fenway Park and teaching history at a Boston high school. . As a way of unwinding, I would go to singles' bars two or three nights a week. I would call my bar visits "recon. missions". I was keepin' an eye out for attractive, single women.
One fall night, I was at a singles' bar called "Lucifer's." Monday nights are usually slow and this one was no exception. Women -- not just attractive women -- were as scarce as hen's teeth. As I recall, I was sitting at the bar sipping on a cold brew when this guy sits down next to me. We strike up a conversation. He introduces himself. He says his name is Stan. He's an office supplies salesman. He tells me he was at this office supplies show in Boston over the weekend where he met this very attractive model; she was working hospitality. He asks if I'd like to double-date. Stan wants to fix me up with an account-executive who works at a Cambridge, MA insurance company. I remember accepting his offer. I gave him my telephone number.
Well a week or two goes by. My chance meeting with Stan at "Lucifer's" is fast becoming a distant memory. Then, about two weeks after we had met, Stan calls me. Our conversation went something like this: "Walt, it's Stan, the guy you met at 'Lucifer's'. How'd you like to "double" this Saturday evening? The model I met at the office supplies show is available and the account exec. that I mentioned is interested in meeting you. So what do you say?" I said, "Fine." Stan then says, "Pick me up at 7 p.m. Saturday evening" (he then gave me his address). How's we do some bar-hopping on Harvard St. (near the Boston-Brookline line) sound?" Again, I said, "Fine."
That Saturday, I picked up Stan. We then picked up my date, the account exec. who lived in Cambridge with her parents. I recall that she was quite attractive. She was also very personable. The three of us then picked up Stan's date, the model, who lived in an apartment on Boston's Commonwealth Ave. I vividly recall that Stan went up to her apartment to get her. They both came down a few minutes later. It was tough to see as it was dark, but I could instantly tell (the dome light came on briefly) that this woman had striking features.
Well, minutes later, we stopped at a bar on Harvard St. near Commonwealth Ave. It was then that I got my first clear look at Stan's date. My heart skipped a beat. She was exquisite (I don't throw that word around lightly). Stunning!
Throughout the rest of the evening, I couldn't help but steal glances at this gorgeous creature. And, I might add, I sensed that she was actually looking at me. Oh, how I wish I could have held her, danced with her, kissed her; but my motto has always been: "You dance with the girl you brung." I was going to enjoy the evening - as best as possible - with the woman who was my date for the evening.
As it was growing late, we decided to hit one last bar for a "nightcap". Oh, about five or ten minutes later, the two women excused themselves to go to the ladies room. When they came back, a very surprising, almost unbelievably miraculous development occurred. Sue, the model, sat down next to me (My date sat next to Stan). Sue then asked me if I'd like to dance (the bar had a DJ). I calmly said, "Yes." Inside, I was jumping out of my skin. It was a slow dance. I remember holding her tightly. I was in heaven. It was a moment to savor. To remember.
Well, when our dance was over, Sue continued to sit next to me. My original date - her name was Joan - sat next to Stan. The girls had worked things out themselves. They had taken the initiative to: "play switchies." Oh, how glad I was they did. I remember at the time looking over at Stan. I was afraid he'd be disappointed at the developments, but he seemed very content. He would tell me later they he liked Joan but was afraid to initiate a relationship with her because Joan was, in large part, responsible for a lot of the business his company generated with the insurance firm. He thought that if they dated and things "went south," he might lose a big account. But now he told me "it was worth the risk."
As the evening wore down, I remember taking Sue up to her apartment. As we reached her apartment door, she turned toward me. I gave her a big kiss. I remember saying something like, "I hope to see you again." I remember her saying, "I hope so, too." I was on "Cloud-9".
Just then, my mind came back to the present at Fitz's bar as the Texan kept up his incessant babbling about us dating showgirls. As he was about to give up on me as a lost cause, I recall him saying, "Now you sure you've never 'played switchies'." I recall replying, "Come to think of it... There was this one time about twenty years ago." But then I quickly added, "I was single then."
As for Sue, I dated her one more time. Oh, I tried calling several times, but she was always busy. Not just with other dates, but modeling gigs, doing hospitality at conventions, trade shows, etc. She was a very busy girl. Oh, come to think of it, I did see her, one last time. Not in person. It was her picture in the newspaper. She was modeling a dress in a photo shoot for some Boston department store. Exquisite as ever.
Yes, In hindsight, I'll never forget that one and only time: "I played switchies".