Night of the Pilots

I am changing names to protect the guilty.

Sally hasn't been out in years and damned if she didn't decide hanging out with me at Fort Myers Beach bars could be fun that particular Saturday night.

She was sipping wine in a low cut sundress telling me about her ex when a drunk guy crawled into the Cottage Bar on hands and knees.

Noting designer sandals and painted toenails at 10 o clock, he lifted his head to find his nose nearly in her cleavage.

Apparently it was lust at first sight. The night was young and so was he.

Drunk ... bright blue eyes, sort of short with big muscles, bigger ego and close cropped blondish hair. Said he was from Minnesota. I asked if he was Finnish and he was like "how'd you know that?" Like I was psychic or something.

In Minnesota or northern Michigan, you just KNOW that with anyone who crawls into a bar.

He was babbling on ad nauseam about being a pilot and wanting us to go to Jimmie B's with him and I was getting really bored. Sally was starting to look irritated, despite the fact that it had been years since she had experienced bad attention. Which is always better than no attention at all.

I was wondering if our pilot had any supervision when the movie star walked in. Holy crap, tall with dark hair, sweet cheeks and kind blue eyes. Yes, they were pilots, yes, they flew a private jet, I won't say which executives they fly for.

Cash and American Express cards were at the ready ... and no, thank God, they weren't scheduled to fly out anytime soon.

He liked me, but that's just ridiculous. The words of rough, grizzled Uncle Buck from VSI ring in my ears ... "I like screwing older women. They're grateful." UB carried photos of nieces and nephews so he could hit on vulerable women at Parents without Partners meetings.

Uncle Buck was a truck expert at the automotive marketing company we worked for. A total piece of work; and a hoot to work with.

So I excused myself from the movie star, tore Sally away from Short Pilot and we headed off to Lani Kai. Deb and the Dynamics were there. So was ... I'll call her Marie.

Marie hasn't had sex in ten years. Every weekend she dances her libido into the sandy floors of the beach bars, where she knows every band and every band member by name. Every bartender, waitress, bouncer ... you name it.

She has a thing for a local guy who's about 10 years younger. He is GORGEOUS. Cougar jokes have been flying, but he has been oblivious to her advances; if you remain silent, you can hear her confidence grinding down the tubes.

Sally sat in a corner and drank at Lani Kai ... Marie danced and I hung between the dance floor and the bar trying to avoid eye contact with two HOTTTTT younger guys. I am not even attracted.

Despite the fact that they were straight out of True Blood ... dark and a little dangerous looking. Like Hungarian gypsies with long hair and brooding eyes.

We shall call them Ponytail and The Lurker.

The Lurker walked up and asked me "who do you worship?" It was a creepy venue for a spiritual question so I ignored him, thinking he must be high.

Ponytail - like Tall Pilot - was ALSO movie star handsome. He had beautiful eyes and a kind face, but he kept violating my space. I got vibes ... sure enough, pony tail is Buddhist. I said "you're light and he's dark" (talking about his brother) and he nodded. The Lurker just stared from the shadows.

I didn't want to get into anything spiritual or talk about psychic phenomenon since that's clearly what they were about; I kept fantasizing about going home to watch Psychic Kids with my dogs. I asked Marie and Sally if they were ready for Jimmy B's and they said YEAH.

So we were off again.

Jimmy B's was humbling after the adventure we had just left. There were maybe two available men - one was our age - tall with giant schnoz and a baseball cap. The other was older and kept touching our arms for attention, like Bodhi when she wants a scrap.

Like Grandma's buddies in the Dementia Ward.

Old Guy was getting on our nerves when I spotted the pilots. I waved them in - and hilarity ensued. Holy crap - drinking and dancing and laughter.

So many times guys our age will blow off women our age in favor of young babes. It was VERY WEIRD to be on the other end of that scenario.

Short Pilot was a wildman, so danced by himself when no one would dance with him. Tall Pilot was still hitting on me but I made it clear I was going home; alone.

Marie was happy to take over. Sally was having a great time ... my friends were safe and happy so I left.

I heard from Marie late the next morning. She told me how many bars Tall Pilot had on his uniform. She said she was afraid to get room service for fear it would be delivered by someone she knew and was terrified driving past her church for fear someone would recognize her car.

It's two weeks later and she still has that smile on her face.

Sally claims nothing happened ... except for having the most fun she's had in many years.

I'm not sure this means my friends have shape-shifted into real-live cougars, but I think it's quite possible. They're out for more this coming Saturday ... and hammering me into compliance.

I prefer vicarious thrills, so expect an update Sunday or Monday.