The rest of my week flew by faster than a turkey on Thanksgiving morning. Tuesday turned to Wednesday, which turned to Thursday, which turned to Friday, which at last, after much eager waiting and anticipation, turned to Saturday.
Saturday! My date with Cindi North is finally here!
And a dinner date, no less. Very classy of us.
Cindi instructed me to bring a bottle of wine, so that is exactly what I will do. There’s a little wine and cheese shop about eight blocks away from my apartment. I visited it on Thursday after work. Believe it or not, I saw Monifa there buying a bottle of pinot noir and some fancy Swiss sharp white cheddar. Not only is she The Most Beautiful Woman in the World, Monifa has high-class taste.
I like her more and more.
I asked the employee working there what kind of wine he’d recommend (I like wine, but I don’t know much about it). He pointed to a moderately priced bottle of Beaujolais (it’s French, so it must be good!) sitting on a shelf behind him. I decided right then and there to go with that and immediately paid for it without looking at the other selections.
I hope my choice of something French will score me points. Perhaps I should have asked Monifa what kind of wine she likes. She seems to be a very urbane and cultured woman. This is definitely part of her charm. Ah, Monifa. She is SOOOOOOO gorgeous.
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO gorgeous!!!
But enough about Monifa! This weekend is all about Cindi North, The Most Muscular Woman in the World. She told me to arrive at her house at 5 p.m., so I decide to leave my apartment at 4:30. I think thirty minutes will be enough to get me there.
In anticipation of Cindi seeing me naked, I went to the gym bright and early today to work out my arms, chest and hamstrings. I threw in the random leg exercise for good measure. The entire time I was busting my butt at Wellford Fitness Center I kept thinking about Cindi and her goddess figure. If that’s not enough motivation to torture your muscles for two hours, I don’t know what will properly motivate you!
At about 4:54 I arrive and park right by Cindi’s front lawn. I still have no idea which car is hers. I see three cars parked on her side of the street. One is red, the other is white and the other is black. I’m going to guess that her car is the black one. I have no idea why. It’s just a random guess.
With my bottle of moderately priced Beaujolais in hand (alright, if you must know, it cost me $46 plus tax. It’s not too much, but that’s generally speaking more than what I’d normally pay for a bottle of fermented grape juice), I approach her house as if it were a divine temple of worship. I’d worship Cindi’s body, no doubt about it. No Greek god ever had a body that was half as spectacular as Miss North’s.
Before I could extend my arm to knock on her door, the door opens and I see Cindi standing there to greet me.
Dear God! Even though it’s only been a week since I last saw her, seeing her again brings a whole new set of chills down my spine. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I will continue to be amazed of her large, muscular body. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to feasting my eyes upon it. Yowza!
“Ryan! You’re back! Come in!” Today she’s wearing gray sweatpants, a sporty t-shirt and a sweater. She looks like someone who just returned from the gym. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that’s exactly where she just came from.
“Hi Cindi, it’s good to see you after such a long week. I brought this.” I hand her the bottle of wine as I step into her house and take off my shoes. Taking off your shoes before entering into someone’s house is a very Japanese-y thing to do. I do it because I don’t want to get dirt on her carpet. It’s a pain in the rear to clean.
“Oooooh, it’s a French wine! And a Beaujolais. One of my favorites. Come in and make yourself at home. I’ve been cooking for the past hour and I think dinner is almost ready to eat.” Cindi takes the bottle of wine and goes back into the kitchen. After taking off my shoes I think about whether I should hang out in the living room or follow her into the kitchen. I decide to follow her to see what she’s preparing.
Wow, whatever it is, it smells really good!
I enter the kitchen and see Cindi mixing a salad together in a large green bowl. That salad must be taking the mixing of the century, judging from the size of her massive forearms.
“What are you making?”
“Something really healthy. I’ve cooked a vegan vegetable stew with a tossed arugula salad, quinoa and grilled asparagus. Just the type of good, nutritious food bodybuilders like us need to be eating,” she says with a silly grin.
“Ahem! Excuse me? Bodybuilders like us? You’re the only real bodybuilder here. I’m just a dude who works at a gym and exercises on a regular basis. I’m not even close to being in your league, sister.”
“I’m kidding, Ryan sweetie,” she says, kissing me on the cheek. “But to be honest with you, I consider everyone who works out their body on a regular basis to be a bodybuilder. Some are more…professional than others. And some are more accomplished than others, if that makes any sense.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” I say, trying not to swoon from that kiss. “And I think you would definitely be put in the category of “more accomplished.” Did you work out today?”
“Yes I did. Today was legs. Never skip leg day!” Cindi puts down the salad bowl and opens the soup pot to check out the vegan vegetable soup. She stirs it slowly. My mouth proceeds to water.
“That’s right. Friends never let friends skip leg day.”
“The table is set and I think dinner is ready. There are two wine glasses on the counter. Grab them and I’ll join you in the dining room.”
“Alright.” I pick up the wine glasses and leave Cindi to tend to her last minute preparations. I set the glasses down at our respective spots (all the silverware and dishes are already in place) and take a seat. I can’t wait for dinner. It smells so delicious!
But mostly, I can’t wait for after dinner.
Yeah baby!
Cindi comes out of the kitchen with the salad bowl in one hand and a plate of grilled asparagus in the other.
“I’ll get the quinoa and I think we can then serve ourselves the soup.”
“I can’t wait. It smells divine.”
“Thanks. I hope it tastes divine as well. Uh, go ahead and serve yourself up.”
“Will do.” I take my soup bowl and follow her back into the kitchen.
Dinner was absolutely delicious, as expected. The soup was very good and had a rich aroma of various spices and flavors. The arugula salad made me almost want to become a vegan, but I still like meat. Speaking of which, our meal had absolutely no meat; just vegetables, starch and quinoa. Come to think of it, this might be the second or third time I’ve ever tasted quinoa.
Cindi and I talked for at least an hour about all sorts of subjects. Between sips of wine (which, I must say, was very delectable) we chatted about sports (BTW, Cindi can kick anybody’s butt at fantasy football), movies, observations about people at the gym (there are very specific groups of people at the gym who can all be neatly categorized. Trust us on this one), exercise in general and reminiscing on last week’s adventures.
“What really upsets me is when people sit on a bench and do nothing but talk on their cell phones, text or chat with their buddies. Other people want to use that, you know!”
“I totally agree!” Cindi exclaims. “That really pisses me off. Fortunately for me, I go to the gym when there’s hardly anybody there, so when idiots do show up I have other places to work out. But if it’s really busy, I’d just pick the guy up and toss him onto the streets.”
We both laugh. I can just imagine Cindi’s strong arms wrapping around some clueless dude and tossing him onto the side of the road. She wouldn’t do that, but she totally could.
“How do you feel about women who go to the gym and do nothing but run on the treadmill for 45 minutes and then leave?”
“You can do that in your neighborhood. Would it KILL you to pick up a weight every so often?” I can tell Cindi is a bit peeved that more women don’t weight train. She hates the stereotype of the ‘feeble, weak girl’ who can’t help herself. Cindi is anything but feeble and weak.
We laugh again.
As you can tell, we laugh a lot. A ton. Cindi is a very funny person. Who would’ve thought a massive, 6’4” female bodybuilder would also be hilarious in addition to possessing superhuman strength?
“Once again, I am so sorry I laughed at you after you came all over my face. I really didn’t mean to insult you. It was, like, the funniest thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”
“Hey, no problem. I laughed about it too on the drive home. Don’t worry about it.”
“I have a good idea. How about instead of talking about the past, why don’t we create a whole new set of memories that will be a lot more positive?”
My right eyebrow raises up.
“Ah, new memories you say? What are you trying to say?” I hope she likes teasing. I think she does.
“Thank you for joining me for dinner. But we all know the real reason why you’re here.”
Suddenly, a weird feeling came over me. Yes, I am here to have sex with Cindi, but that’s not exactly the whole picture. Something about the way she said that made me feel strangely uncomfortable.
“True, but let’s hold on a minute. Aren’t we also here to become friends? I don’t mean best friends or the kind of friends who hang out all the time. I also don’t mean friends with benefits. But I’m not here just for meaningless sex.”
Cindi’s face became serious.
“Look, I didn’t mean it like that. Not at all. I’m not implying our relationship is like that of a prostitute and her john. That’s not us. And I’m not ruling out the possibility of a friendship between us. I think we have very good chemistry together. Look at the time. It’s been almost an hour after we began eating and it feels like it’s only been ten minutes.”
“Wow. It has been an hour. Time flies when you’re having fun.”
There is a long silence. We stare at each other. This evening hasn’t had too many awkward silences. This is probably our first.
“I’m serious, Ryan. This relationship isn’t just about sex.”
“I know. I want to become friends.”
“I think we’ve become that already.”
“Really? But we’ve known each other for only a week. Is that enough time to become friends?”
“Sure it is. A friendship can start instantaneously and last a lifetime. That’s the beauty of friendships, no matter how unconventional.”
“Unconventional?”
“Yes. How many female bodybuilders are you friends with?”
“Only one. You.”
“And to be honest, I don’t have too many 23-year-old Japanese-American friends. You’re my only one.”
“I’m glad to be your only one.”
Cindi smiles. When she smiles it reveals the deep wrinkles around her eyes and age lines across her face. But I don’t see that as distracting from her beauty.
Yes, you heard me. I think Cindi’s beautiful.
Very beautiful.
“So….our friendship isn’t just based on sex?”
“That’s right. Not just sex.”
“But, we…uh, haven’t actually had sex yet.”
Pause.
A wicked grin flashes across her face. Almost instantaneously, Cindi rises from her chair, walks over to my side of the table, picks me up with her strong arms like a baby, kisses me passionately on the lips and carries me upstairs to her bedroom.
“Let’s change that.”
The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi 