This, That, and the Other

I am unofficially participating in this year’s A to Z Challenge. My theme this year is girlfriends.

R is for Rhonda R.

One day I walked into my office and there was a small plant with a sticky note attached to it. The plant was an African Violet and the note attached to it simply said, “Take care of Violet.” I had no idea who had left it on my desk, but there it was.

I asked nearly everyone I knew if they knew who this mystery person was, but everyone claimed to have no knowledge of who left the plant on my desk. I had no idea how to take care of an African Violet plant and neither Google nor Wikipedia existed back then, so I asked my secretary to figure out how to take of it.

I put it out of my mind until around a week later when I found a new sticky note attached to the plant. It said, “Violet loves being here.” And every week for the next few weeks I would find a new sticky note attached to the plant, and each week the notes were getting more and more intimate, making me more and more curious about who was behind this plant thing.

I was never able to figure it out. But then one day about three months after Violet had first appeared, a girl knocked at my office door. I know I had seen her around the office, but I had no clue who she was. She asked if she could come into my office and sit down, “Sure, have a seat,” I said, and once she was sitting across from me, I asked how I could help her.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” she said. “I thought you would be more tenacious than you apparently are.” I looked at her but had no idea what she was talking about.

“Do we know each other?” I asked. She was a good looking young woman, with long, black, straight, hair, and a very nice figure.

She light-heartedly accused me of stripping her with my eyes whenever I saw her in the company cafeteria, which I honestly had no recollection of doing. Then she told me she was a medical claims examiner who worked on the same floor as I did, but my department was on the south wing of the building and hers was on the north side.

She looked at the African Violet plant on my desk and told me I’d been taking good care of Violet. “So it was you,” I said. She told me she was getting tired of waiting for me to figure it out, so she came in to take responsibility for Violet. Then she confessed that she would strip me with her eyes in the cafeteria and she’d hope that by giving me the plant, I’d finally notice her.

She asked me out on our first date and that was when I learned about Rhonda’s little fetish. She really loved having sex outdoors, and the greater the risk of being seen making love by others, the more excited it got her. I admit, it was kind of a turn-on for me, too.

One summer day were walking along the public path at East Potomac Park in Washington, DC. Rhonda was wearing a sundress and I could see that she had nothing on underneath that little sundress. All of a sudden she grabbed my hand and pulled me into this little clearing inside of the thickly tree-lined path. We were barely five feet off of the path that was crowded with tourists.

Rhonda pulled her sundress up over her head, revealing her naked body and then literally ripped off my T-shirt, unbuckled my belt, and unzipped my jeans. I used to go commando back then, so I, too, was quickly naked and we proceeded to have some splendor in the grass.

And then I heard the sound of a woman gasping. She saw us, and ran back out onto the path screaming “Police! Police! I slipped my jeans back on and she got into her sundress and we high-tailed it to where my car was.

After that incident, the thrill of outdoor sex diminished somewhat for me, and the magic faded. Rhonda and I stopped seeing each other.

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