Chapter 34: Myrna rediscovers herself
Although I retired from the company I worked for a while ago, I tried to keep abreast of things, especially concerning former colleagues. Regularly there were announcements of people that had passed away, which is obviously not really fun but it is, after all, an integral part of life. Upon my return from Rome there was the sad announcement concerning my former colleague Patrick with whom I had worked quite closely and who’d become a good friend over the years – but yeah you know how it goes when you quit your job, you lose contact. I always did go to the monthly lunch of the pensioners, but that group had also diminished over the years.
Well, well, Patrick I thought, we had some great times together, we went regularly on business trips, he for systems, me for logistics. We discovered things together which under normal circumstances we would never have seen or experienced. The most interesting trip we ever made was a trip to the Far East, with Bangkok as the highlight where we not only visited the biggest market and several temples but also made a little side trip to a Thai massage parlor. I have no idea if he ever told his wife about it, and although I know his wife, I never revealed his secret to her.
But yeah now it seemed Patrick had moved to the eternal hunting grounds, maybe there was also a massage parlor with cute and naughty little Thai angels. Luckily I had received the notice of his funeral well in time so I could attend. It was a simple service and I was certainly not the only former colleague attending. There was a small group of Patrick’s closest former colleagues who had been invited to join the coffee table, a very old tradition in Belgium after a funeral. It was nice to see them and reminisce about the good old days but the person who surprised me the most was Myrna. I had no idea why she was there as she never worked with Patrick, well not as far as I knew. I must admit though I was very pleased to see her as all through my career I had had a bit of a crush on her. Myrna was a small redheaded fireball, a real ginger, and I do have a thing for gingers, maybe because my mother was ginger, I have no clue. Anyway, as soon as I saw her I went straight for her.
“Hey Myrna, long time no see, how are you doing?”
“Hello Lew, it’s been a while.”
“Yes indeed, you haven’t changed a bit, still definitely ginger I see?” I said with a chuckle and a wink.
“Yeah, I see you’ve turned a little greyer: too many worries?”
“No, not really, I’ve been told that these grey hairs make me a distinguished gentleman.”
“That’s indeed a way to look at it, but really for the rest how is it going?”
“I can’t complain, I now do what I’ve always wanted to do in life.”
“Oh, and what’s that then, chatting up girls?”
“Mmh yes and no, not chatting up but photographing them, preferably in the nude.”
“My, my, the man has turned into a porn producer.”
“I wouldn’t really call it porn, more like erotic art.”
“And where do you practice this erotic art, your bedroom?”
“No, I bought an old photoshop and had a big studio built behind it. I hope to get a better revenue on the pension fund money the company paid me than what the banks are willing to give me these days.”
“Yeah, banks, tell me about it. So you don’t pay these ladies to pose in the nude, they pay you?”
“Yes, sometimes in money and sometimes in another way.”
“I knew there was a catch somewhere.”
“Please don’t jump to conclusions, some women have needs and I try to help them or make them discover or rediscover themselves.”
“Yeah, you’ve always been a sweet talker.”
“Despite all this sweet talk, I’m still single.”
“Is there no woman on this earth that was able to hook and keep you?”
“No, but what about you? Are you still single or did you manage to hook a ripe or rich man?”
“No I’m still single and I don’t feel the need to hunt or hook single men, rich or otherwise, I’ve got my son and my grandchildren to love and keep me busy.”
The conversation continued for a while in that way, Myrna was always fun to talk to and not shy of a joke here and there, even a risqué joke. She was like me, very open, always cheerful. During the coffee table, I sat next to her together with several other former colleagues. After about an hour the guests began to leave. Maybe I should try to see Myrna again sometime, it was always great fun to chat with her and she always liked a good joke. I was also anxious to show her my studio, perhaps to impress her a bit? Who knows?
“Myrna, would you be interested to see my studio?”
“Euh yeah why not?”
“How about next Sunday or Monday, that’s the days I close the shop and when I have plenty of time to give you the grand tour.”
“Yes, but Sunday is difficult, that’s when the grandchildren come for lunch, and afterwards I’m bushed, but I’ve got nothing going on on Monday so would that be OK for you?”
“Great, Monday it is, how about 2 o’clock? I’ll give you the grand tour and we can have a cup of coffee afterward.”
“Sounds great, I’ll get some pastries, if I remember correctly, your favorite is a merveilleux, isn’t it?”
“How is it possible that you remember that?”
“Oh, there’s much more I remember about you, for instance, your trip to Thailand with Patrick.”
“I guess we’ll talk about that adventure some other time. So I’ll see you Monday? Here is my card with address and phone number; you never know, with the grandkids if something comes up you can always call me.”
“OK see you then.”
Monday afternoon at precisely 2 pm I heard the doorbell. Totally, Myrna, she had not changed in all that time, as punctual as she’d always been.
“Come on up love, or better yet, I’ll come down so I can show you the studio first.”
I thundered down the stairs and guided her through the shop to the studio.
“Here we are, this is my pride and joy.”
“That’s big,” she said, ” you clearly went all out.”
“You know me when I do something I always try to achieve perfection. Shall I take some photos of you, while we’re here?”
“No thanks, I always look awful in pictures.”
“Oh yeah? Why do I clearly remember you as a ‘calendar girl’?”
“Oh my God please don’t remind me, that was one of those crazy ideas of our boss in purchasing: everybody had to be in the calendar they were going to distribute among the suppliers to get to know us better.”
“Please Myrna just humor me and allow me to disagree with you, you look great and I’ll give you a nice photo for your grandchildren as a bonus.”
“OK, but do you have a mirror to make sure I don’t look a fright?”
“Sure, I’ll show you in one of the dressing rooms in the back.”
“Dressing rooms, you really thought this through didn’t you?”
“If you want to photograph ladies in the nude, you do need a dressing room or better an undressing room,” I said with a wink.
“That’s more like the Lew I know: always an explanation at the ready, but where is it?”
“Here in the back”
“Waw, that’s more than just a dressing room, it’s almost a small apartment, the only thing missing is a kitchenette.”
“It’s fairly comprehensive yes, with the make-up table and mirror, cupboards, fridge, shower, and some furniture to rest or relax.”
After the check-up of her hair and the little make-up she wore, I finally convinced Myrna to model for a minute or two, which in the end turned into a reasonable-length photo session of at least 3 quarters of an hour, during which I photographed her against various backgrounds, unfortunately always fully clothed. The maximum I could convince her was to undo a few buttons of her blouse at the top. She finally said it had been enough.
“I’m thirsty Lew and feel like a pastry, how about you?”
“OK let’s go upstairs and I’ll put the kettle on.”
When we made it to my apartment she was again seriously amazed by the size and especially the roof garden view. After we had our coffee and cake I wanted to find out more about what had happened to her during the past years I hadn’t seen her.
“So how are you doing, how is your love life?”
“You don’t beat about the bush, do you? But yeah that’s how I remember you. For the moment it is very quiet, I’m single and intend to keep it that way, besides what use does a man have for women my age?”
“I could name a few things if you wish.”
“I can imagine, but ‘that’ does not interest me anymore.”
“No sex anymore Myrna, that was the very last thing I expected to hear you say.”
“I had a few very bad experiences. I don’t need it anymore and besides, what could a man possibly want with a woman my age, the way I look now?”
“The way you look, darling, you look fantastic but do tell about your bad experiences.”
“I met a man when I was still going dancing every weekend. At first sight, a nice guy, well-groomed, smooth chatter, and he was rather good on the dancefloor, so after a few months, we had some sort of relationship. We had kissed a few times on the dancefloor and he started to put some pressure on me to take it a step further. In those days, I still had a healthy appetite for sex and masturbated almost daily, so I agreed to have sex with him.”
“Yeah masturbating, I know all about it, my right hand was my best friend for years.”
“So one evening after the dance, we agreed he would come to my home and spend the night. Once we got home, it was almost like in the movies, he started to rip my clothes off me when we had barely closed the front door. I was ready, willing, and able so by the time we reached the living room he had me down to my panties, but he was still fully dressed, time for me to remedy that. I quickly removed his jacket and shirt but when I started to undo the button and zipper of his pants he stopped me. What’s wrong? I asked.”