The Bridges of Tonawanda County

June 6, 2009

She offered herself, arched against the sky, sturdy legs spread wide in invitation. He approached slowly, cautiously, wondering if his mast was short enough. He had dreamed of lying beneath her, hearing her creaking and groaning. His sheets were cleaned and ready in anticipation of their date. His bow pulpit thrust out, hard as stainless steel.

“You’re not the biggest I’ve ever seen”, she said.

“And you’re not the youngest,” he replied. “But we’re here in this place. Some river of karma brought us together.”

“Yes”, she said softly. “Just yes.”

But theirs was only to be a fleeting encounter, destined to be parted by the currents of time.  

Soon he encountered another. She had been a beauty once, painted depression-era black. Now her beauty was a faded memory, but she still carried herself proudly. And she was available.

“How about opening up for me?” he inquired.

“Give me a few minutes to spruce up”, she said. “I have to clear my decks.”

“Take your time, beautiful,” he said with a practiced air.

She opened to him slowly, seductively, a study of grace in motion, despite her bulk. Wide open, she signaled to him, beckoning him on. It was a satisfying relationship, but again he felt that compelling need to move on. He was looking for something…some new level of excitement in a vain attempt to re-live the glory years of his youth.

  At last he came upon her.

“You’re a swinger, aren’t you?” he said.

“Better believe it, lover”, she boasted. “I’ve swung for them all. I’ve had the best: Chris-Craft – now he had a body. Beneteau – he could go all night. What are you?”

“Lord Nelson” he replied.

“Ooo, I don’t think I’ve ever had royalty before. Well, your Lordship, time is money…”

We now break for a Conway Twitty interlude (Family Guy reference, for those of you who don’t know…)