GIRL 2
FINDING EAGLES GIRL
Her picture only showed her eyes, and her eyes were gorgeous. She contacted me, and her approach was completely sexual. "I'd love to feel your hands on my tits."
Wow. It had been a while since I'd been with a sexual woman. How could that be?
I radioed back, and soon we were completely in the gutter.
She asked what I wanted her to wear. I told her, miniskirt and heels.
When she showed up, she weighed fifty pounds more than me. I was a gentleman.
We talked, had a few drinks, had dinner. She wanted to take me to her place. Her ex had the kids. Her house was lovely. She took off her clothes. She was huge.
She reached for me. There was nothing there. I looked down in amazement. My penis had never before failed me. And here it was, runway in sight, with nothing going on.
I looked up at Finding Eagles Girl. I'm really sorry, I said. Happens to the best of them, she said. And the worst, she added.
It was a long drive home. The last time I'd really dated I was a twenty-three year old submarine officer. Back then, I could pretty much fuck anything with a pulse. Not any more. This was the moment I realized that my penis not only had his own mind, but was a traitor to my leadership. His name was given to him by a forgotten woman decades before: Rex. I later modified his name to Tyrannosaurus Rex, because he was so primitive and aggressive and carnivorous. But from now on, he would be known as "my traitorous penis, Tyrannosaurus Rex."
Up to this moment, when I would talk to Rex, it was not like I bent over and spoke to my own crotch. No, Rex would come alive in my mind, a sort of quiet thought appearing in my head, a thought I hadn't created. An alien spirit voice.
But this time instead of just thinking thoughts to communicate with that outside spirit, I decided to speak out loud to Rex as I drove. I wasin a strange mood, and I figured that hearing my own voice would be theraputic, but when I said, "Hey, sorry about that, Rex," a voice, an actual human voice, answered me. I almost drove off the road when I looked over and saw myself. But it wasn't me, it was a parallel universe's version of me. He had a soggy cigar clamped between his teeth and a worn leather hat low over his eyes, he sported three days of beard growth, and he was leaner and tanner than me, but otherwise he could have been my twin.
When Rex spoke, his voice was -- no surprise -- at least an octave deeper than my voice, yet my voice all the same.
"No problem," Rex said.
I swallowed hard and tried to recover my composure. I know it sounds crazy, to be talking to an apparition of yourself, but one who represents your libido, but perhaps it will make more sense if I explain that I had been an insomniac ever since Girl 1, and I knew that insomnia can cause waking illusions and mental flights of fancy. I calmed myself down, saying that once I got some sleep, things like this would stop happening to me. So I humored the apparation and talked to it like it was actually there. Maybe, I thought, it wouldn't know what to say to me and it would vanish.
"You're okay that I made you consider fucking that woman?"
"I'm cool. Don't do it again, but no worries."
Okay, I thought. Say something to end this freaky conversation, get back to the house and go to sleep. He'll be gone forever by first light.
"I'll feed you something better next time," I said."I hope you do, or I'll pull the turtle routine again."
I smiled to myself, wondering if Rex would have done that if he were dosed up on Viagra. On a much later date, I would find out.
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