Fertilizer for the balls

Wow! What a weekend. So much has happened. Ups downs... ups again. Here goes...

Friday I bailed from work early. I have been trying to get the boat ready for the summer. I'm way behind. I had just a few minor things before a shake down cruise so to speak. I was up to my armpits in bilge shit replacing a crumbling bilge hose when I got a text from Taylor "What are you doing?". I shot back a quick description of the position I was in trying to wrestle this hose loose. I asked her what she was up to. She replied "Nothing.. looking for something to do". I don't really remember what I said. At that point in the conversation, while yanking on the offending hose in the boat, the through hull fitting snapped off. I think I sent Taylor something to the effect of "Fuck... I just broke it. I'm finished now". She replied "Do you want to hang out for a bit? Hrmm.... Mrs was due home at any minute. I replied "I could do something later... like 9 or 9:30ish". She said that was cool. Then she sent "Do you still have your old weed? Would you mind sharing". Hmmm share weed with a beautiful young woman... "Why certainly" was my reply.

I thought I would be able to get away earlier, but then it didn't work out so I pretty much left at 9:30 when I said I would. I grabbed some beer. She told me she was going to the boat she hangs out on. I made my way there. I finally found the place after a couple of wrong turns.

The marina is on part of a decommissioned military base and is very... VERY secluded. We got the beer in the cooler and settled down in the cockpit. I had no clue what to expect when I got there. I have been on this particular model of boat before. It's perfect for camping... but a little on the cramped side. The cockpit has two bench seats. Each about big enough for 1 person to sit on. We both leaned back against the bulkhead on our respective seats. Our conversation ranged from the beautiful night to some of the times I sailed on a similar boat offshore. After a while she asked "You mind if I fire a bowl?". By all means. We went below. 5 or 10 minutes later we were lounging on the settees below letting things wash over us. She said "Let's go for a walk". When my head popped up from below, I noticed the temperature seemed to have dropped at least 15 degrees in the time we were below. We walked around the marina. There is a convenience store on the outer most pier for boaters to stock up on important stuff... beer.. ice. We walked around it and to the very end of the last pier. The wind was blowing pretty good out there. Taylor found one of the pilings the pier rides on with the tides and was tucked in behind it. She said "If I stand right here I can get out of the wind. I put my arms around her and tucked in with her. She remained huddled behind the pier. She said "Let's go back". We walked back to the boat discussing workouts and the importance of keeping a "tight core". Back on the boat we went back down to the cabin and opened fresh beers. We talked about swimming in the ocean. Taylor confessed she had a fear of water she perceived as infinite. I.e. that the ocean goes for thousands and thousands of miles in all directions strips away her securities. Swimming in deep water where the bottom is thousands of feet below really freaks her out. As stoners tend to do, we talked about philosophy, or rather personal philosophies. Nothing so academic as Nietzsche or Deleuze (yeah I googled). Moreso our opinions on how people should and do interact. She told me about her best friend who repeatedly came on to her ruining their friendship. I wondered if it was a anecdotal hint to me. She packed another bowl. Eventually we lay down on the settees. Again, in the cabin, the settees are 1 person sized. I tried thinking of ways for us to lay together. Perhaps this was her plan. A place where intimacy would be limited by physical constraints. I think I quit talking at some point. I am a firm believer in "it is better to keep one's mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt". When I get stoned I feel like a babbling idiot. On top of that, I was having this really disturbing sensation deep in my throat that felt like I had a belch stuck...

Somewhere in there, my pager went off. A fucking system had crashed. Fortunately, my crackberry has just the appropriate client to use to fix it. The downside is, it is incredibly slow. It took a good 15 minutes to do what should've taken 5.

Somewhere in there, Taylors foot ended up in my hand. I'm not sure the series of events. But I took it upon myself to rub it. Which lead to rubbing her leg. I told her to roll over on her stomach. I rubbed her back, shoulders, thighs. The whole time I was wondering, is this going somewhere? I was getting a distinctly non-sexual vibe from her. The beer, weed, conversation, it all seemed... platonic. She told me, "I was going to sleep on the boat. But I can't. I'm just not comfortable tonight". Did she mean me? She seemed to drift off to sleep. I asked "Taylor, are you awake?". She murmured "yes". I continued rubbing. A few minutes later "Are you awake?". Again a murmured "yes". I was kneeling by her settee. It was getting pretty uncomfortable. Not to mention I had an incredibly sore foot (I thought I broke it at karate... another story). I sat on the floor and leaned my head next to hers. "Taylor, you said you didn't want to sleep on the boat. I'm afraid you might fall asleep. Then I'd feel guilty for leaving you here when I know that's not what you want". We were inches from each other. She said "Is it ok if I just go home now?" I gave her a patt on her ass and said "That's perfectly ok". And we packed up and left.

On the way home I kept thinking what a fucking idiot I am. Why in the hell didn't I just get a set of balls and make a move. What's the worst that could happen? I get the "friend" speach? I beat myself up the entire way home.

The next morning I sent her a text "I really wish there was more room on that boat to lay next to you". She replied "Yeah it's pretty cramped". I had a ton of yard work to catch up on. I went outside and began edging... mowing.. blah blah.

Last session, the pool team won the playoffs. This qualified them for a tournament which, if they won, would earn them a trip to Las Vegas to compete in the Nationals. The tournament started Friday night. But they got a bye and didn't play until Saturday afternoon. I had actually planned to go watch them Friday night. But the bye nixed that. Saturday, Mrs signed up for a 5k fun run. She really wanted C and I to be there. So I had to skip watching them. I shot Taylor a "Good luck.. keep me posted" message. The fun run started at the stadium of our local semi-pro baseball team. It ended at home plate. While C and I watched the runners waiting for Mrs I started getting text messages "X just won his match. Y is up next". 30 minutes to an hour later "Y just won... J is up"... followed by "J just lost, M will be up"... I really hated sitting there missing all the action waiting for Mrs. After her run we watched a little bit of the baseball game. C was bored and restless so we left around the 3rd inning. Mrs' Aunt had a birthday party at the same time. We left the ball game to go to her birthday party. The whole time I was there I kept getting updates "J just sunk the 8 ball and the race is now even"..... "Shit... J just lost. And we're going to go sudden death with Chester against one of their lower handicaps". About 15 minutes later I got "Holy shit CHESTER JUST WON!!! WE WON $200!!! We play the next round tommorrow at 11".

We finally dragged C away from all the aunts and cake to take her home and put her to bed. I got a text from Taylor: "Winning makes me so hot. I need a hot piece of ass right now!" I shot back "I think I hear a system crashing... it make take me all night to fix ; )" She laughed.

Sunday Mrs said "Why don't you go watch the team play?" Oh.... ok! I got to the bar in the middle of their first match. Chester's Dad won. I had real mixed emotions about the whole thing. On one hand I really wanted them to do well. They are my friends after all. On the other, I hated that I wasn't on the team for this. A part of me really wanted them to lose so I could have a chance to be in the tournament. I feel really awkward. I was part of the group by association.. but it wasn't my team. I wanted to share the joy.. but I really couldn't... I stood back away from the team for a while watching intently. I didn't want to interfere with their mojo. Finally Chester's Dad (let's assign him a moniker... Pops) won his match. Taylor had been keeping score. She got up, stretched, then sidled back to where I was. "Do you mind if I smoke back here with you?" Who am I to argue? She lit up. We watched as the next matchup started. I felt an arm snake around my waist and a head lean on my shoulder. All too quickly she said "I gotta get back to the scoresheet" and she left. I hung back watching the next match. It went back and forth, finally our player (I'm choosing sides here) won. Again, Taylor got up, stretched, then walked back to me. Same deal, she lit a cigarette. Her arm went around my waist. She started back to her table, she turned to me and said "Come sit next to me"... wait for it... here it comes... Who am I to argue. I sat in a barstool kinda behind her and in between the other seat at the table. My feet were propped on the barstool so that my knees were kind of even with her chair. She turned to say something to the guys behind me and plopped her hand on my leg. While she talked to them, I felt her fingers start to slide around the top of my thigh. They danced around until they came right to the edge of my shorts... then they dipped under the hem of the leg just a little. She looked at me and said with a sheepish grin "Why... was that too high?" I think I stammered something like "It can never be too high". This went on for a while. Her stool was positioned so that my hand naturally rested on it's back. It was very convenient for me to let my fingers tickle the small of her back... or scratch... or squeeze. Whatever. We went back and forth like this for the next couple of matches. J, the boss, lost his. He was pretty devastated. In fact, I've never seen him that pissed at himself. The next player lost in what has to be the slowest match in history. Somewhere in there, Taylor turned her stool sideways and said "My feet are falling asleep. I need to prop my legs up and slung one across my lap. My hand naturally rested on her thighs. It was obvious she hadn't shaved and she was embarassed by it. Everyone noticed how red she was and we started giving her hell about shaving. Everyone was rubbing her calf or shin saying "DAMN!!" For a second, everyone turned their back laughing at that or something else. She grabbed my hand and said "It's much smoother up here" and shoved my fingers inside her shorts. I thought... ok... don't chicken out now stupid! I pushed my fingers higher and higher until I just felt the elastic of the leg of her panties. She got really red and said "Damn you went way up there!!" I said "Don't start nothing you aren't willing to finish". She blushed and said "That was kinda hot! I'm just glad I wore panties or I might've had to excuse myself!"

The match came down to sudden death again (there is a time limit). Again it was Chester against one of their lower handicaps. Chester worked him over pretty good, but then, he got down to the 8 ball. He had a tough but very makeable cut for the win. We were all cutting up a little bit and it seemed he was relaxed. He bent over to line up and one of the girls from the other team shouted "Shoot the white ball!!" Chester stood up laughing. It took him a minute to stop giggling. When he did he bent back over the table and shot. The 8 ball rolled to the pocket and bouned around the tits falling about 1/8" short of dropping. We were all stunned. The poor girl on the other team turned white. We were all joking around. But technically what she did was unsportsmanlike and could've gotten her barred from the tournament. Luckily for Chester, the cue didn't leave the other guy with much of a shot. He not only missed the next shot, but lined Chester up perfectly to sink the 8. Which he did. The team moved through to the final level... they were also $800 richer.

I decided earlier in the week I was going to take the boat out Sunday for a "shake down". I wasn't sure how the team was going to do. But my mixed emotions got the better of me. I excused myself.. congratulated them on making it to the next level, and left. I went home, got the boat ready. Originally, I just wanted to go out by myself... hopefully Taylor would go with me. The whole tournament thing screwed that up. I felt bad for leaving Mrs and C behind, so I asked them if they wanted to go. We all hopped in cars and drug the boat down to the yacht club. I cruised around and around running the engine making sure it was all tip top. I started getting texts "Pops lost his match. G is playing now"... a little while later "G won.... M won". M is the guy who played the slowest match in history. He's painful to watch because he actually lays his cue on the table and does the geometry in his head. Evidently, he was so nervous he played with some emotion and spanked the guy in record time. We continued to cruise the harbor. There was a festival of boats going on. We went by a couple of times checking out the sights from the water. I got a text "Chester drew their best player". Finally it was time to take the boat in so we could get C to bed. The whole time I was putting the boat up I got updates. I felt like a football junkie sneaking a radio into church to hear the playoffs. I got "Chester needs 3 the other guy 2"... then "It's tied".... then "The other guy needs 1 Chester still needs 2"... finally "Shit... Chester lost. Now it's sudden death with J (the boss) and their lowest handicap". A few minutes later I was putting the boat in the yard when I get "WE'RE FUCKING GOING TO VEGAS!!!!"

And my heart dropped. I can't believe deep down I was pulling against them. I have to read the archives more closely, but my old pool team made it to the last ball, of the last game, of the last match, of not 1 but 2... TWO tournaments... our guy made the 8 ball.... then the cue went cross side and scratched. The rules were different back then. You had to get through two tournaments. AND you only got money at the end. Not after each round. It seemed so unfair. I couldn't believe they were going to vegas... and I'm stuck sitting on the sidelines. What makes the matter even worse, is that that team fell completely apart. Only 4 of that team stuck around this session. The rest either quit out right, or move to other teams. At least one of those players only bothered to show up for 3 matches all season. Ah well... I called Taylor and congratulated her as cheerfully as I could.

By the time I got the boat squared away Mrs had already fed and bathed C. I went upstairs to the computer and started reading up on the other formats in the Nationals and what it would take to qualify. I.e. single, doubles.. etc. My phone rang. It was Taylor. "We're all going back to the home bar to celebrate. Come out and join us". I asked Mrs if it was ok. Reluctantly she agreed. I hopped in the truck and drove to the bar. On the way I got a call from Chester "I know you heard, but I wanted to tell you. We won. We're headed to the bar now". I told him Taylor invited me and I wanted to buy them a round. He said the bar owner was giving them and open tab but to come on and celebrate.

I pulled in the parking lot still with mixed emotions. As soon as I cleared the door I saw everyone sitting at the bar. The boss had his back to me. It was the boss who put their other player away. I didn't realize it earlier when he lost the match in the afternoon, but he hadn't won a single match the whole tournament. He was so pissed that afternoon I pretty much steered clear. I put my finger to my lips for everyone to keep quiet. I charged across the bar and grabbed him from behind in a sort of flying bear hug/tackle. He spewed his beer everywhere. I knew he was on cloud nine after losing all tournament, then getting redemption putting away their player to take everyone to vegas.

After that, I kinda stood back while the team told their tournament war stories. Taylor came over after a while and put her arm around me. Chester came up to me and said "Come here... I want to show you something". We went around to the other side of the bar. He pointed up to a HUGE trophy on the wall and said "You should've been there. After all the shit we went through... you should be part of that" I said "I made my choice. That's all you guys... I just wished I had come back last session. But it's my bed to lie in". He said "We'll get there again... and you're going when we do".

We walked back around to where everyone was. I shook hands and listened to the stories. After a while one after the other people excused themselves and went home. Finally, it was the boss, Taylor and myself. We sat clustered around. Taylor and the Boss talked a lot about the match. Taylor never got to play a single rack. The way the handicaps and matchups went, it was never the right time for her to play. The Boss said "I'm so proud you were such a good sport about not getting to shoot" She said "Who fucking cares... WE'RE GOING TO VEGAS!!"

Finally it was just the two of us. She said her good byes to the bar tenders and other non-team people and we walked out. Our cars were side by side. Hers faced one way, mine the other so that the driver doors were on the same side. She put her purse in the back seat and came over to me. We hugged. She held tight. Her head rested on my shoulder. She said "This feels really good". I replied "Yeah... it'd be nice to do this somewhere more comfortable". She giggled "Yeah.. other than that cramped ass boat!". Then she pulled away. She leaned against her car, me against mine. We were still holding hands. I don't remember what she said... or if she said anything. I finally said "Sometimes I really wish I would grow a set of balls". She said "Me too...". I said "Maybe I'll start with a tiny set" and pulled her back to me. She buried her head in the crook of my neck and chest. I said "Uh uh" and took her chin in my hand lifting her face. And I kissed her. She kissed me back. For just a moment or two. The the door opened to the bar. Quickly she broke away and said "Good night". I walked to my door which, in spite of being next to her car, seemed a mile away. I was about to open my door when she said "Here's my tiny little set" and ran over to me quickly giving me another kiss. Then we got in our cars and left.