Mia's Blind Date

by Patrizia Murray

  After one of her mother’s famous pot roasts, Mia said good night to her parents, and walked downtown to the Last Chance Saloon, where she was assailed with ear ringing noise, the huge bar packed with bodies, every table full. People shouted to be heard above a live country band, and the general mayhem of a Saturday night in a small town. When the western band took their breaks, everyone, including Mia and Cheryl reached into their pockets and purses for change, knowing what was in store. The western band was replaced by the local Salvation Army band playing Onward, Christian Soldiers.

  ”Isn’t it amazing that these Sally Ann types don’t get embarrassed parading through the bar every Saturday night? I think that same lady with the tambourine, and the same two guys with a trombone, and a tuba, who have been passing the hat, every hour of every Saturday night, in every bar in town, have been supplementing the food bank donations for years this way,” Cheryl told her.

  “Now that’s dedication,” mused Mia.

  Cheryl and Mia had been friends forever, and even their moms were friends. Mia compared Cheryl with Ava, and thought they might get along if they ever met. Funny how work friends and school friends were so different. School friends knew more secrets and you didn’t have to explain as much because they knew you so well. Mia knew Cheryl was happy in her job as a nurse, and her marriage.

  Cheryl confided to Mia, “I think I’m pregnant. I’m going to the doctor on Monday, so keep your fingers crossed for us.”

  “I’m so glad we got transferred back here,” Cheryl said. “I hated it when we were stuck in the city. I don’t know how you can stand the traffic, the travel time, the crowds and the fact that no one knows me. I love meeting and greeting people I’ve known all my life, at the post office, or in the grocery store. I know you hate everyone knowing your business.”

  When she was back in the city, Mia was perfectly happy just nodding to people in the elevators, or at the mail box, but not having to answer questions about her work or her love life at every turn as she did when she went home to visit her family.

  “Yes, I know you and I have always been ‘city mouse, country mouse’ haven’t we? I’m happy just coming to visit my folks, and I don’t mind coming down for the parties, weddings and the occasional funeral, and of course, I’d never miss Thanksgiving or Christmas, and Mom’s fabulous cooking.”

  Cheryl said wistfully, “I wish we still lived in the same town.”

  Mia answered, “Emails are free, and we talk for about an hour every week for less money than we’d spend on a nice lunch.”

  “I know, but it’s not the same as sitting, talking and having a big hug when we say good bye.”

  “I’ll be back next weekend too, because you know I never miss birthday parties—yours, mine,or the family’s. I’ll always be back for all that, and don’t forget Christmas. This will be your first in your new house, and by then, you’ll be so pregnant I’ll have to help you decorate,” Mia teased.

  Mia said, “I love Christmas in Daysland. There’s the Christmas parade, and old Mister Anderson playing Santa. I can’t believe he’s still doing that. He must be eighty-five, if he’s a day. I’m going to take the whole week off work and be here for all my favorite things—the kids’ Christmas concerts, parties, skating, sledding in the crunchy snow, shopping, wrapping, decorating and just the joy of the season.”

  “Don’t forget carol singing and delivering Sally Ann food boxes,” Cheryl chimed in.

  Mia couldn’t help but wish she would have someone special to do all her favorite things with, but since Mia was the last one of her crowd to be married, someone was always asking her when she would be next.

  Cheryl was optimistic. “I just know you’ll find a great guy and maybe this will be the Christmas we’ll all celebrate together. You must have some dates in Calgary, why don’t you ever bring any of them home?”

  “I tried that a couple of times, if you remember, and I was embarrassed to tears when everyone, from my parents’ friends, to all of you guys and your parents and your kids, all asked him when we were getting married. Carole’s kids even poked my tummy and asked if there was a baby in there like their mom’s.”

  Chapter Two

  The Blind Date

  A few weeks went by. Mia was amazed Ava hadn’t pestered her about the nice guy she had wanted to hook her up with. Mia had been extra busy at work, and so had Ava. Both their case loads were overwhelming.

  Mia arrived at the converted World War II building that had started its useful life as an airplane hangar. She hated the high-ceilinged, damp, cold, uninviting cavern. Mia wished the government retrofit a few years ago had included better heating and ventilation, but the goal had been only an ill-fated attempt to keep it open another few years, so they wouldn’t have to find a more hospitable place for the department social workers. She was glad she’d be out of the office on home visits so she didn’t have to be in the depressing old place all day. Now, she thought, do I have everything? Files? Forms? GPS? Laptop? Printer? She headed down the aisle towing her rolling file cabinet behind her.

  As Mia signed out for the day, her supervisor walked past. “How’s it going, Mia? Don’t forget we have a staff meeting at four this afternoon.”

  Mia grimaced with disgust. Now she’d have to come back to the dank office, after her calls. “Yeah, I remember,” although she clearly had forgotten the meeting. Before the long winded supervisor could trap her with one of his interminable lectures about protocol in the office, which was his current rant, Mia looked at her watch, and grabbed her rolling briefcase. “Oops, got to run, late for an appointment,” she called out over her shoulder as she hurried out to the parking lot, wrestling the rollers across the gravel, and heaving the heavy case into the trunk of her car.

  The car was hot already, and Mia could feel sweat trickling down her back, as she swore softly. “Damn, I’ll be all sweaty for my appointments today.”

  Mia pulled up to the Greundig house. Mia was counseling the family where she suspected that the combined IQ of the parents was about 65, and the five kids together totaled an additional 65. She dreaded going to see them, because there was always another catastrophe to deal with. One time the father had left the six month old baby girl sitting on the kitchen counter, while he went to answer the phone. The baby toppled over onto the floor, scorching her arm badly on the still hot stove top on the way down. Now two, she would carry the burn scars all her life.

  The last time she had been here, the couple gleefully informed Mia they had a bet on with a relative they could have ten children before Mrs. Greundig was thirty. She was well on her way with five already.

  Mia asked “Why would you bet on such a thing?” They looked at her as if she was a pickle short of a jar. “We can get way more money from the government for ten kids than we can for five!” Mia gave up arguing with that kind of logic, and was currently trying to persuade the woman’s doctor to talk her into agreeing to have her tubes tied.

  Mia approached the Greundig house with trepidation. It was a seventy-five year old house that could best be described as gray. The clapboard hadn’t seen a coat of paint in many years, and the inside wasn’t any better. Mia shivered as she picked her way through debris littering the walk. The coat of grime on everything made it difficult for her tell if there had ever been any color anywhere in the house. Mia had been trying to teach the couple about hygiene and good housekeeping, but so far, to no avail. They didn’t seem to mind the dirt and detritus, although Mia tried to hide her disgust as she searched unsuccessfully for a clean place to sit and put her briefcase down.

  In fact, Mia mused to herself, Even the family is gray. They have fade- into- the- woodwork beige hair, beige skin tones, pale colorless eyes and they wear clothes that are uniform gray-beige, whether from dirt, or age or both, who knows?

  Grayish curtains drooped over some of the windows, and gray sheets screened others. No
ne were ever opened, that Mia could see, but if they had been, all she could have seen was dirty windows and overgrown bushes that covered them, making everything inside uniformly…well, gray.

  I know I shouldn’t be so judgmental, but it will be a monumental task to stop this woman having more babies. Mia thought. The five she already had were all developmentally disabled, and as soon as they were old enough to be tested, would no doubt confirm Mia’s conviction that none would ever be independent, productive members of society, thus perpetuating the social assistance mentality into yet another generation. Everyone has rights though, and no shortage of advocates to see that this couple can reach their goal and win their bet.

  This family was one of about 150 active cases, all needing home and school visits, counseling and doctor’s appointments, budgeting and household management advice. Mia was feeling particularly overwhelmed today, facing another frustrating session with the Greundigs. Could just be the gray weather, but I sure don’t know how to get through to them, she thought to herself.

  Today’s crisis was Mrs. Greundig’s brother and his family of six had landed in on them, and they had run out of food. After dealing with that crisis, and handing out food stamps and bus tickets to the brother, they all regaled Mia with stories of their children. One boy, age five, insisted on smearing his own excrement on the bathroom walls, and another, age six, had a permanent egg shaped bruise on his forehead, from banging his head on the wall every time he was frustrated with something in his life, which seemed to be hourly. All four parents, far from realizing such behavior was abnormal, laughed about it, and thought the kids were ‘cute’. Mia would be sending yet another report to the family doctor.

  * * * *

  Ava was also juggling about 150 cases, mainly involving child abuse of the most horrific kind. Ava cried on Mia’s shoulder on many occasions, “Oh, Mia, you should see these poor little ones. I can’t believe parents, who’d punish their children by pouring boiling water over their feet, put their little hands into hot frying pans, lock them in closets or leave them alone while they go out drinking.

  “Last night I had to go out with the police and pick up two babies who’d been alone so long they were eating the poop out of their diapers,” Ava lamented. “What a mess they were. They had been stuck in their crib, crying for more than two days. By the time we got there, they were sleeping in the poop and pee, and I couldn’t even find a clean spot to grab hold of to get them out of there.”

  “What did you do with them?” asked Mia.

  “I had blankets and I wrapped them up, poop and all, and put them in the car seats. I took them to the Children’s Shelter, and they put them in the tub right away. They had to drain the tub twice to get rid of all the dirt and poop. You should have seen them eat—the poor little mites were starving!”

  “Have you found the parents yet?” Mia asked.

  “No, and it looks like we may not, either. At least, not if they don’t want the kids back. Once we got them halfway clean, they were the cutest little things, but I’m sure they will have developmental problems.”

  “Honestly, I am constantly shocked at people. I know I shouldn’t be, after seeing everything we see all the time, but I am,” Mia sympathized, then proceeded to tell Ava about her “gray” family with five going on ten kids.

  * * * *

  Mia had met Ava back at the sushi bar, not far from the office, for a quick lunch. “My God, I’m exhausted. Remind me again why we do this?” Ava griped. “I haven’t seen you around the office for weeks. I don’t want to even think about work for the rest of this lunch break. Tell me about this lawyer you’ve started seeing.”

  “Oh, he’s fine, but we don’t get to see each other all that often,” Mia said. “I’ve managed to stick it out for a few weeks. He’s the son of one of my dad’s friends. He’s starting out on the fast track to a partnership, and since he has to work even more hours than I do, we actually don’t get to spend much time together. That’s why we get along so well, because we never see each other long enough to get to know each other’s faults. Bart has no money, so we have to be satisfied with meals I make, or pizzas and beer Bart shows up with, at my apartment, at ten p.m.

  “Bart kisses me goodnight, and cops a few feels while he’s at it, and once or twice, we even made it into bed. You won’t believe this, though. The first time, Bart was sound asleep by the time I came out of the bathroom, and the second time, he literally passed out on top of me after he had cum, and there I was, frustrated as hell, and trying to push a hundred and eighty pounds of lawyer off my chest.

  “Fortunately, I still have that vibrator you talked me into buying when we went to check out that new adult toy store on Seventeenth Drive. Bart never even woke up when I climaxed without him. I don’t think I’ll see him anymore. Sad to say, the vibrator is more exciting than he is.”

  Mia asked “Does every male in the world need sex lessons?” She idly thought it might not be a bad gig, teaching men how to satisfy a woman. “In the olden days, fathers would take their sons to their mistresses to be taught the intricacies of sex. Nowadays, it seems they are only concerned with coming themselves, and never mind what their women feel. I have no intention of marrying someone who doesn’t even try to satisfy me.”

  Never mind sex, Mia thought. What about love? She was sick of dating guys and sleeping with them, and feeling used and unsatisfied all the time.

  “Damnit, where am I going to find one who respects my body and feelings? I’d love to know exactly what love feels like. I’m sure I’ve never been in love with any of the men I’ve dated,” she said to Ava, her voice just a bit whiny.

  Ava looked at her sympathetically. “I don’t know if I’m the one you should be asking about that, Sweetie, because you know Noah and I have been married for eight years, and we went steady since we were fourteen, so I have zero experience with the dating game.” She gently touched Mia’s arm and squeezed. “Neither of us ever had sex with anyone else, ever. We didn’t know anything about sex till Noah’s older brother, Jack, decided when we were fifteen, Noah needed to know about more it than Tab A into Slot B, which is just about what your parents teach you when they tell you not to do it till you get married.” Ava related how Jack had showed Noah where to find pornography on the internet, and had rented him a series of porn movies. Ava said, “I was shocked, but then incredibly turned on watching the movies with Noah. We still look on the net, and rent porn movies,” Ava confided, “to spice things up once in a while.”

  Mia giggled. “Yeah, my mom was more into the sex thing, because she grew up in the ‘60’s, when Free Love was in full bloom. Dad still subscribes to Playboy and Maxim, and Cheryl, my best friend from school in Daysland, and I read the letters out loud to her hubby, Al, to make him blush. As far as sex is concerned, he lives in the land of the blissfully unaware.”

  “When I was a teenager, I figured there had to be more to it than what the folks and Playboy told us, so I went on the net too, and now that I’m older, I’m not even the slightest bit embarrassed about going to that sex shop, and I have several ‘How To’ books. Did you see those two sex doctors on Oprah talking about how to perform oral sex? I’d like to make all men watch that episode.”

  “I’ll have to give you some internet addresses so you can find out more. My latest thing is reading erotic romance novels,” answered Ava. “I started a couple of years ago, bringing home one novel a week from the library, and I don’t take it back till Noah and I have tried every sex scene in each one. You can’t imagine what fun that is!” she said with a giggle.

  Ava motioned Mia to move closer, and she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, “We’ve even tried oral sex!” She confided, “Noah didn’t like it at first, but since we bought some cinnamon flavored stuff to drip on my snatch, he’s like a man possessed. All I have to do to turn him on is chew some cinnamon flavored gum, breathe in his ear, and he�
�s got me flat on my back with my legs over his shoulders.”

  “This one book had play by play instructions on giving head. I’ll loan it to you, and you can learn a lot, just from the pictures. Noah says guys just love it when you go down on them.”

  Mia smirked to herself about Ava giving her instructions. Mia knew all about oral sex, because one of the guys in her past had been a master at doing it and teaching it to her. She had learned lots from watching Oprah, too. She actually loved the velvety feel of a penis against her tongue, and she knew just the places to touch on that organ that men loved the best. They would shudder when she sucked on the end, and moved her mouth and hand at the same time either in the same or opposite directions, to create new sensations.

  Mia lost the thread of conversation, as she thought about bumping the tip over her teeth and licking all the way down to the root, drawing the tender skin into her mouth, at intervals, in little lip bites that had a man panting. She could almost hear them moaning with pleasure when she mimicked making love to their penises by stroking her tongue in and out of that little hole that seeped pre-cum. In her mind she licked their balls and the space between balls and anus, and although straight guys claimed not to like anal sex, she knew men loved it when she inserted a finger high enough to reach their prostate and stroke it to ecstasy.

  Mia went wild when a guy went down on her. What turned her on most was a man licking and kissing his way from her ankles up to her inner thighs, and parting her lips with his fingers. By the time he got that far, she would be screaming with need, and waiting breathlessly for his tongue to probe her slit, and finally, suck on her lips and clit. When she was lucky enough to find a man who knew what to do, she could cum from the licking and sucking of her clit, alone. She often used her vibrator to stimulate herself, when there was no man around. She had never felt comfortable discussing oral sex with any of her girlfriends though.