Getting Away (Closed for Chanaud)

[darrenfate]

BO

The cold arctic winds of the Edmonton Alberta plains made this day as miserable as it could get. The only good news was winning such a large software deal to close his year His Blackberry rang, it was his regional sales manager calling about the deal. Paranoid, could only partly describe him, he never believed good news until the contract was inked and Corporate had the deal in the sales log. Bo ignored the call. Good news can always wait. The inane prattling of his RM was just something he didn’t need right now.

“Fuck them all!”. He realized how burnt out he was.

Bo was anxious to get out to the airport and back home to Michigan.- although at this time of year the weather was no bargain either.

“I need a vacation” he muttered aloud.

“I can spend my commission check money now and not have to pay until the credit card comes due. I’ve got three weeks of vacation time to burn. Where can I go?”

Somewhere warm.

Definitely.

Rio? Too far.
St Thomas? Maybe.
Cuba? No. (Bo silently cursed the US government for its idiotic travel ban ).
Mexico? No. Just there six months ago.
The Keys? Yes!

The flight home was simple. He hopped on the Net before he even unpacked. There were dozens of travel options. Slowly his good mood returned.

He logged onto Literotica's bulletin board and asked his friends At Rick's Cafe for ideas. Credit card at the ready, he continued to surf.

He was soon to be off to the Keys!

 

[chanaud]

Judy

“Congratulate me, Al. I’m a homeowner!” A voice boomed into the dark damp bar, followed by a long, lithe woman who seemed to be in her late 30s or early 40s. Her dark auburn mass of curls, streaked with blonde were pulled back into a single ponytail. Sans makeup, her face was a smooth tanned palette.

“Hey, everybody, Judy is a happy homo!” The gay bartender giggled while pouring a beer. He set the Stella draft down on the bar before Judy’s long lean legs had reached her barstool.

“I have to tell you this is the best thing the son of a bitch did for me.”

“Did he even show?”

“No,” Judy answered. “I suppose his wife wouldn’t let him. His attorney just showed up with a title signed over to me. “I own her lock, stock and barrel.”

“Then you’re done with him.”

“No choice, Al. He was over me a long time ago. The only thing that came between us was the boat. Now she’s mine. All mine.” Judy replied with giddiness. It was a long custody battle, but the son of a bitch finally caved. She knew he would. He had named the boat after her. Judy Time. Besides, the wife didn’t sail.

A couple of guys dressed in matching golf shirts walked in and glanced around suspiciously. As soon as they realized the few patrons that were sitting there looked somewhat safe, they sat gingerly at a round table in the center of the bar, barely touching the sticky tabletops.

Winking at me, Al sashayed over to the table with menus. Judy couldn’t help following him with her eyes and a smile. The two men were young and beefy, exactly Al’s type.

Judy finished her beer and laid down a five. She slid off the barstool and waved goodbye to Al. She was going to her new home. Judy Time. It’s going to be Judy Time now, she mused silently. Smiling to herself, she walked out into the smothering humidity of Duval Street.

 

[darrenfate]

BO

Key West sailing charters. Key West sunset cruises. Treat yourself to a double decker sail on a private charter (with two octogenarians as co captains). That would be a no, no and hell no. These Google results were gettng nowhere fast. Damned if he was going to be herded on the typical sail. He wanted adventure, something off the beaten path. Far off he hoped.

To amuse himeself, Bo logged onto the live web cam outside Sloppy Joes bar on Duval street (http://www.liveduvalstreet.com/). At least here he could people watch while he plotted his next move. There was an array of people going by, men and women of all shapes and sizes. One woman in particular sashayed by. There was something about her, besides the great ass. An air of joy. A stride with purpose. Then just like that, she was gone and out of the picture.

Bo knew right then what he had to do.

Get down there and let fate take its course. he couldn't book a sail online, he needed to wander the slips, ask the locals, find a woman like the one that just went by. NWA flew into Key West airport direct from its Memphis hub. 18 hours later, Bo stood on Duval street himself. he walked up to the live cam, and waved up at it.

He was here.

Several beers later and a few strangely flattering male advances later, he wandered off to find the docks. The night was young.