IT WAS AN HONEST E-MAIL; I had no hesitation whatsoever to meet her but the destination troubled me and I was troubled over the contents at the end: "Be sure to dress conservatively, maybe black tie, white shirt, but nothing that sticks out."
She was new to the city; a Bostonian via Hartford; very young, very eager and very adamant and up front. She didn't want to mince words either. It was good as a no-drama indicator but I was nevertheless a bit concerned and anxious by her immediate straight-forwardness. Temptation dictated my action but common sense added urgency to the situation. I asked myself repeatedly was this a set-up. I carried on.
Her name was Fantasia. It was not the name she used as a TV reporter in San Francisco. She was some really hot young woman if I say so and her journalistic bent was more than satisfying to my eyes and ears. OK, she was hot and I was nervous and wanted severely to gaze into her eyes and inquire as to just what the heck she wanted; if it was guidance and advice, I was a player. Not that kind of player, but if she was looking to seduce me for some cheap promotion she had the wrong man. After all, I may have influence in this town but I'm a modest blogger looking for capital for heaven's sake, how can I help her? She laid it out in spectacular detail.
We met at the Van Ness Holiday Inn. The street level bar was the chosen location; two huge bowls of the cheese fish was first in sight but her highness, Fantasia, dressed in a rather sensational black pencil skirt with a beige blouse and lavender earrings struck me like a bat out of hell. To top it off she had on some beautiful ankle-strap black pumps--wow!, I was melting like a fondue at the Ed Ball Cheese House. I tried to remain calm and reminded myself I was there, at her beck and call, but it was all business. No shenanigans on this itinerary --it was difficult given the surroundings and such but I couldn't have it any other way.
She ordered a simple sherry and a couple of olives. She told me that she read me quite a bit and after a couple of rounds inquired as to "how to make it happen here." "Like what are you talking about?" I asked her directly. She whispered in my ear about "work, but working right." I found it odd that she conveyed such an extraordinary request in such an extraordinarily personal, seductive way, but I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Fortunately, she was eager, she was pervasive and she was persistent. But she didn't disappoint. We could have split the bar and headed over to the park to nuzzle sweet nothings but that wasn't on the agenda. I felt better and more secured. Fantasia seemed real now and we could move forward. Our collective conscience non-besmirched, we gathered our emotions and carried forth.
Turns out all she wanted was acknowledgment and redemption --after all, a move west out to scary San Francisco, her beautiful mind needed an honest tug and I was there for her. And I never had to compromise my integrity nor did she have to seduce me in any way other than completely honest and truthful to the max. We both respected one another and moved forward; she gave me her card and thanked me for my words of advice. We're friends. A new bond. And I feel better about myself.
After a simple liverwurst sandwich we both shared at the Tenderloin Inn, it was time to move on.