New York Nights-Northern Lights #01

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I met Daniel at a Billy Joel Concert in Central Park two years ago. We were both alone and wandering through the crowd listening to the music. I remember it being so crowded but there were pathways cutout through the crowd to walk and, as if flowing water down a meandering stream, long lines of people snaked back and forth. With a horde of people moving in one direction to the other, it must have looked like blood flowing through a major artery. As if it happened yesterday, I remember listening to Billy Joel singing Piano Man.

He says, "Son, can you play me a memory. I'm not really sure how it goes but it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man's clothes.

La la la, di da da. La la, di da da da dum."

Then, not looking where we were walking, we literally bumped into one another. He grabbed my shoulders for me to stop walking before I knocked him over. He wasn't the biggest man I ever dated either, an understatement. He was the smallest man I ever dated. With me 5'9 ½" tall, I was more drawn to men over 6'2" tall. With us seeing eye-to-eye, we were about the same height.

Yet, giving him credit where credit is due, he was the most intelligent man I ever dated. Typically, someone who looked like me never dated someone who looked like him just as someone who looked like him never dated someone who looked like me. We were an odd couple were more akin to Penny played by Kaley Cuoco dating and marrying Leonard Hofstadter played by Johnny Galecki on the Big Bang Theory.

He wasn't the best looking guy either that I was ever interested in but there was something about him that made me not only notice him but also made me look at him twice. As if his face was a blackboard with mathematical equations written all over it, as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, his intelligence was obvious. It was obvious just by looking at the expression on his face that he had a big brain with lots of knowledge behind it. Not undressing me with his eyes and not looking through me in the way that most men do when not listening to me, he looked at me as if I was the only woman in the world and he was my psychiatrist.

"A walking, talking, and breathing atomic theory of matter, you're like an atom and/or a molecule filled with protons, electrons, and neutrons wandering around the universe bumping into things," he said with a laugh. "You would do well in a life-size pinball game."

In the way that Penny is never sure on the Big Bang Theory, I wasn't sure if he was insulting me or complimenting me. Obviously, he was so wicked smart and compared to him, I was so wicked dumb. Just as there were plenty of things that I didn't know, seemingly, there wasn't anything he didn't know. He was an oracle of information.

As if he was a professor giving a lecture in front of a class of budding scientists, he could go on and on talking about all kinds of interesting facts about the Earth and about nature. He could endless talk about the sky, the stars, the planets, the galaxy, and the universe. As if he was a weatherman, he knew all about weather. As if was an oceanographer, he knew all about currents and tides.

Just he knew facts and figures, not limited to science and all things scientific, as if he was an economist, he knew about the economy too. As if he was a political strategist or commentator, he knew all about current events, governments, laws, politicians, and politics. As if he was a psychologist, he knew all about the learned behaviors of people too. With seemingly nothing he didn't know, seemingly, he was so very insightful about everything except for women and except for sex.

When it came to sex, he was such a nerd. No doubt, in the way he stared at foreign, orb like bodies in the sky, he stared at my big breasts as if he had never seen tits before. Instead of feeling me and fondling me, he groped me. Quick to grope my shapely ass and big breasts, making out with Daniel was like having sex with a horny, virginal, teenage boy. With him obviously being sexually inexperienced, at least there was something that he didn't know and something that I could teach him.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

While enjoying the concert, I was looking more at what I could see of the stage and of Billy Joel than I was paying attention to where I was walking. We both laughed but, as if it was meant to be, as if it was kismet, or fate, as soon as we made eye contact, we both knew there was something more than just bumping into some stranger in a crowd. He filled me with behind the scenes information about the meaning of Billy Joel's lyrics and I filled him with tidbits of gossip about Billy Joel and Christie Brinkley. We watched the rest of the concert together and he invited me back to his apartment after the concert.

We had a couple of drinks and some introductory conversation. Normally with me able to hold my own, I felt as if I was having a conversation with my college professor. He was so smart that he made me feel so dumb. I told him that I was a struggling writer and he told me that he was a geologist for Exxon.

'A geologist for Exxon? Wow! Whatever that is, what the Hell is a geologist?'

I figured he had something to do with rocks but what does rocks have to do with oil wells, off-shore oil rigs, and digging for oil. I didn't even know what a geologist was and/or did until he told me. Truth be told, I thought a geologists looked for dinosaur bones or maybe that was an anthropologist. I needed to watch Jurassic Park again.

Obviously, by his big apartment and by my little, hole in the wall, one-room studio, he made a lot of money. In the way that opposites attract, and in the way that protons and electrons attract, he was rich and I was poor. Yet, living in New York had a way of bringing strange bedfellows together. Definitely, he was the strange one and I was the normal one.

Then, no longer talking, we made out as if we were sitting in the backseat of his car on prom night. Kissing and kissing him, he continued kissing and kissing me. Obviously, he loved my big tits because when he wasn't staring at them, he was feeling them. As soon as my erect nipples made their appearance through my bra and blouse, he pulled them, turned them, and twisted them through my clothes as if I was a human experiment. Then, as if my clothes were on fire, I couldn't get them off fast enough.

He watched me unbutton and remove my blouse as if it was Christmas and I was a Christmas tree. He continued staring at me wide-eyed while I unbuttoned, unzipped and removed my jeans. He stared at me as if he had never seen a woman in her bra and panties before. Then, as if I was a stripper in a VIP lounge giving him a private striptease show, he watched me unhook and remove my bra and slide down and remove my panties with focused concentration. He stared at me as if he had never seen a naked woman before.

He quickly and unceremoniously stripped himself naked as if he had spilled acid on his clothes. With him having a difficult time putting on a condom, I wondered if he was nervous or a virgin. I helped him roll on his condom on his penis and he made love to me on his bear skin rug on living room floor. I've had casual sex before but nothing like this. Even with him being so awkwardly clumsy, our first time having sex was as if we had sex before. Everything was all so familiar. Two years later, we've been together ever since that night.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

Before working for Exxon, he worked as a volcanologist for the United States Geological Survey.

'A volcanologist? What the Hell is that? Is it someone who studies volcanos? Why would anyone study a volcano? Unless they were dormant, how could anyone get close enough to study them?'

He had a Ph.D. in geoscience from MIT, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Howard Wolowitz played by Simon Helberg had a master's degree in Engineering from MIT on the Big Bang Theory. Seemingly, all that I knew about science translated from what I learned from watching the Big Bang Theory for nearly ten years. Obviously, I needed to broaden my educational horizons by reading a book instead of watching situation comedies on TV. Yet, in the way I learned so very much from watching the Big Bang Theory, I learned all that I needed to know about friendships and relationships by watching soap operas, Seinfeld, Friends, and Sex and the City for years.

'Wow! MIT? That's right up there with Harvard but for math and science instead of business, law, medicine, and the arts,' I thought.

He made me feel dumb with my paltry BS degree in English from the local university. In high demand for his talent for finding oil, he traveled a lot in his line of work. His job took him all over the world. My job took me back and forth to the library until I no longer had to go to the library with his vast array of high end computers and with them all wirelessly connected to the Internet.

'Wow!'

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

Sometimes he invited me to go along with him while most times, as if I was his concubine, I hung out in his apartment and waited for him to return. The peaceful quiet when he's not there was what I needed to write my stories and hopefully finish my novel. Just as I looked forward to him returning, embarrassing for me to admit, I looked forward to him leaving too.

With apartments in New York so expensive, we decided to live together. Not much of a decision on my part to make, I didn't have to even think twice about giving up my roach infested apartment that overlooked a back alley. In a heartbeat, I gave up my small studio apartment to live with him in his sprawling three bedroom 4 bath apartment that overlooked Central Park. No longer having to pay rent, I saved a small fortune.

'Are you kidding me? What was there to even think about? When I compared how I was living in New York before to how I was living now, I was living the good life instead of the life of a near homeless woman.'

I kicked off my shoes and threw my feet up and relaxed on his four-thousand-dollar sofa. When I wasn't relaxing on his high end sofa, I was sleeping in his eight-thousand-dollar Tempurpedic bed. Not even moving it with me, I threw my lumpy, old sofa and my caved-in mattress in the trash.

A fair trade for the both of us, it wasn't all one-sided. He paid for everything and, in exchange, I gave him hot sex and home cooked meals whenever he wanted it. Only, he was leaving, yet, again. I watched him pack. This time, instead of packing an overnight bag, unlike him to take so much stuff with him, he packed a huge steamer trunk that was on wheels.

'A steamer trunk? Why? Where the Hell is he going to, Alaska?'

I had no idea where he was going and how long he was going but he was taking everything but me. I didn't even know he had a steamer trunk but he must have had it for a while because it had stickers of countries where he had been pasted all over the trunk. Something out of a 1920 transatlantic cruise, I didn't know they still made steamer trunks. As if he was leaving to go on jungle safari, it was a cool looking piece of luggage. Just as did everything he owned, it looked expensive.

He had stickers of all the countries where Exxon had an oil presence, Venezuela, Canada, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Russia, Libya, Nigeria, Kazakhstan, China, Qatar, Brazil, Angola, Mexico, and a dozen other countries. He made me wish that I had a trunk like that if only to show everyone all of the places I had traveled. Envious of his traveling adventures, he made me wish that I had been to all of those places. Now, instead of staying home and writing my stupid book, I wished I was going with him wherever it was he was going.

"What are you doing?"

It was a stupid question. Obviously, I knew what he was doing. He was packing, of course. Obviously, he was leaving me, yet, again. Nonetheless, it was a question that I needed to ask. If I didn't ask the question, with him not much of a conversationalist, he'd never volunteer the information and/or tell me why and where he was going without me.

I imagined that whenever he packed his steamer trunk, he was leaving the country and would be gone for a while. He was going away again without even telling me until now that I saw him packing and asked him what he was doing. I continued watching him pack while sipping my wine. Compared to how I packed, as if I was running from the law, with me just throwing things in an overnight bag without folding anything, he was a meticulous packer. Folding everything, everything had its own place, compartment, slot, or drawer in his steamer trunk.

I assumed that I wasn't invited to go with him, otherwise he would have said something about him leaving long before now. I was sad. I was hurt. I was frustrated. I was envious that I wasn't as important in my job as a writer as he was as a geologist. A bittersweet moment, I was missing him already but I was looking forward to my time alone to write.

"I'm packing," he said not even looking up at me or apologizing for not taking me.

He was never big on conversation. I figured that scientists and genius were like that. I didn't peg Galileo, Einstein, or Edison as being blabbermouths. Always preoccupied in thought, he'd rather examine rocks than to talk to people. A typical MIT scientist, he'd rather study sedimentary layers, volcanoes, or rocks for gem stones and now for traces of oil deposits than to study me.

Always preoccupied in thought as if he was Dr. Frankenstein, he'd rather scrape away dirt from stone than to strip away my clothes from my body. Unless I was wearing a sexy nightgown or standing before him naked, and even that didn't distract him from his work sometimes, he was more comfortable looking down at the ground than looking up at the sky or up at me. Sometimes totally frustrating to talk to, I had never met a man quite like him before. Sometimes, he made me wish that I was a rare rock.

"Where are you going?"

With the warm clothes he was packing, I figured he was going somewhere cold. Maybe he wasn't leaving the country but going to Fargo and the great plains of North Dakota again. As cold as Death Valley is hot, freezing cold with the wind whipping across the treeless prairie, that place was a boomtown of activity with Fracking. I was glad he didn't invite me to go there. I much prefer the warmer weather to the colder weather.

'Miami, I could do and have some fun in the sun but Fargo, sorry no, I'm not a big fan of snow. Only, I didn't think that South Beach had much oil. No thanks. He could rough the cold weather alone,' I thought while shivering at just the thought of going to North Dakota this time of year.

Besides, I didn't even have to go to Fargo, North Dakota to know what the weather was like there. Having learned much of what I know from watching television, I not only watched Fargo, the movie with William Macy and Steve Buscemi but also, I watched Fargo, the TV series. I watched the first series with Billy Bob Thornton in 2014 and the second series with Kristen Dunst in 2015. Maybe I watch too much TV but with Daniel not watching any television, our television time averaged out when divided by two.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

I'd love to go to Qatar, Russia, or China the next time he goes there. For all that I know, he could be going to Pennsylvania again but he wouldn't need all of these clothes. It's been hot there lately with the heatwave. He could be going to Canada again to help with the oil pipeline. Maybe he was going as far north as the Arctic. Now glad that he didn't invite me, with their polar bears, killer whales, and bone chilling cold, I'd never want to go there.

"Alaska," he said removing the mystery of his destination.

'Alaska? Wow! Awesome! Someplace new.'

I could feel my eyes bugging out of my head.

'Seriously? Alaska? I always wanted to experience an Alaskan adventure,' I said hinting that I wanted to go with him.

Suddenly, I imagined Eskimos in igloos and Alaska's Tongass National Forest, the largest rain forest on Earth. Until I was watching Ice Road Truckers about truckers driving in Alaska, I never knew that Alaska, of all places, instead of South America or Africa, had the largest rain forest on Earth. Not as much of a dummy as I thought I was, I've learned a lot, just from watching TV.

I imagined myself wearing boots, a raincoat and rain hat while holding a huge umbrella in one hand and a huge magnifying glass in the other hand. As if he was Sherlock Holmes and I was Dr. Watson, I imagined myself taking notes for him while walking through the rainforest. Only, unless he was staying at a five star hotel, I'd never want to sleep in a tent in a rainforest. Truth be told, I couldn't even imagine myself trudging through the dense undergrowth of the rainforest. I could only imagine the huge bugs and scary, poisonous snakes that hid everywhere in the forest.

"Alaska?"

He looked up at me to give me a half smile and a shrug.

"I go wherever they send me," he said with another shrug as if apologizing to me.

I looked at him sad eyed while waiting for him to say more but he didn't. I looked at him waiting for him to invite me but he didn't do that either. For sure, if he was going to Alaska, of all places on Earth, I wanted to go too. I'd have to go shopping first, of course, to buy a warmer wardrobe and a steamer trunk like his, too.

"I always wanted to see Alaska," I said hinting again before pausing. When he didn't invite me to come with him, I swallowed my pride and asked the question. "Can I go?"

He returned my sad eyed look with his sad eyed look.

"Not this time, Baby. Maybe the next time. Sorry but I can't," he said returning his focused concentration to packing his trunk.

He always called me Baby instead of Barbie. I preferred him calling me Baby than Barbie. Even though I hated the name Barbie because it reminded me too much of the doll, especially with me tall, blonde, and busty, I hated Barbara even more.

The name Barbara reminded me of June Cleaver, Leave It to Beaver's TV mother played by Barbara Billingsley. Barbara was an old ladies name. The name Barbara reminded me of Barbara Stanwyck, a famous movie star of old. The name Barbara reminded me Barbara Bush, President George Bush's mother. The name Barbara reminded me of TV host, Barbara Walters. The name Barbara reminded me of Barbara Streisand, the famous singer. The name Barbara reminded me of Barbara Eden, famous for I Dream of Jeanie of the sixties.

The name, Barbara, reminded me of a name out of One Thousand and One Arabian Nights. I always thought of Alibaba and the Forty Thieves when I thought of my name and when anyone called me Barbara. I wished my mother had never named me Barbara. I would have more preferred to be named Jennifer, Julie, or Christine, anything but for Barbara.

"Why not? Why can't I come with you?"

He stopped what he was doing to explain.

"It's a big job. I have too much work to do. I'll be there a while, a couple of months," he said.

'A couple of months,' I thought.

He looked at me in my nightgown as if he wanted to have sex with me again. With the hall light shining through my nightgown behind me, I knew he could see the sexy, shape of my naked body.

"Oh," I said acting as if I didn't care that he'd be gone for a couple of months when I did care that I'd be alone and lonely.

I watched him look from my eyes to stare at the impressions of my big breasts.

"You'd be too much of a distraction," he said with a sexy laugh while continuing to stare at what he could see of my big breasts.

"A couple of months?" I looked at him with sadness mixed with happiness that maybe I'd finally be able to finish my novel. "What am I going to do without you for a couple of months?"