When Finally We Meet

She's wearing a bathing suit top with the straps around her neck. Her little white shorts begin low on her trim hips. Her very-thin, curvacious torso seems to go on forever. Her straight, thick blond hair hangs halfway down her bare back. Her perfect posture with her shoulders back complements her toned, yet soft arms. Her legs go all ... the way ... to the floor with her feet in a sexy high-heeled clog. You aren't the only one to notice her. Every man in the place -- including the dads -- has his eyes on her. You wonder if her face is as beautiful as her body, but you can't see it. She orders only a milk shake, and as she turns to leave the restaurant, you catch a glimpse of her face.

Her features are soft, almost delicate, very lovely ... and somewhat familiar. If you didn't know better, you would think it was Robbi. Yet, this person was older, certainly by at least a few years. Robbi was a girl. This was a woman.

Suddenly, she was gone, out the door. A couple of businessmen at another table smile and raise their eyebrows at each other as if to say, "Wow! Wasn't she something."

You look at your watch. You still have 25 minutes to wait.

The minutes creak by until it is finally time for you to return to my apartment.

You knock on my door, it opens, and before you stands the "woman" from McDonald's. I'm still wearing the shorts but have changed out of the bathing suit top and into a cut-off T-shirt. It's cut almost halter close to my neck. My arms are bare except for my long hair cascading over them and reaching down over much of my long, bare torso.

"Robin?" you say tentatively.

I smile, take both your hands in mine and bring you into the apartment. "Of course," I say, "and you just have to be John."

I reach up and kiss your bearded cheek, then take one hand and lead you over to the living room. You notice how small my hand is in yours and how good my subtle perfume smells.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived," I say. "I hope Robbi kept you entertained?"