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The Trolley (standard:romance, 1875 words)
Author: LawlessAdded: Mar 14 2001Views/Reads: 2201/1137Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Part One of a special story about a romance discoverd by a simple trolley ride. Part Two is in progress.


I was on the Trolley this morning.  I was late for work, so I took the T
instead of my normal routine of walking to work.  I sometimes I ride 
the T when it is raining, or when I am late. 

Today I was late. 

While onboard this particular monday morning the woman next to me looked
like she was going to explode.  She was acting unusual, she was moving 
and shaking about.  She was kind of whining, and whimpering.  She 
seemed very hyper and wild.  It looked as if she had consumed too much 
coffee and doughnuts for breakfast this morning, or maybe she had ants 
in her pants.  Her breasts were bouncing all over the place.  That 
alone had most of the men on the train staring due to her nice shape. 
It was entertaining and even comical to watch, but I was not just late 
this morning, I was late for an important meeting with the chief 
financial manager of the computer company that I was purchasing. Before 
the weeks end I intended to slow my involment with my current firm 
Smith and Jones, then be promoted to temporary operations manager and 
partial owner for DataTech - one of the largest computer software 
development companies in the East.  My position would be labeled as 
'temporary' due to their recent expansion internationally.  Within four 
months I would be the permanent head of operations for all seven 
centers here in the US.  My current boss Roger Burke, operations 
manager of Smith and Jones, would be heading to our new development in 
Sydney, Australia.  He would run the operations abroad until we got our 
international feet wet.  I suspected though that I would take over most 
of his responsibilities (as usual) not long after he arrived there.  
The two companies are both owned by one man, James Bishop.  However at 
the end of the week I would attain ownership of over 38 percent of 
DataTech, while continuing to keep nearly all of my 14% stake in Smith 
and Jones. 

One way or another I needed to be on my best behavior today.  I had to
make a very positive first impression.  Right now, my tardiness was on 
my conscious; I surely did not need some fanatical woman disrupting me 
any further by ruining the one good thing that I did have going for me 
-- my three-piece Armani suit. I approached her, "Listen I don't mean 
to interrupt your workout, but I am late for work.  Please don't get 
too crazy and spill your coffee on me.  Okay?" I tried to be polite.  I 
usually don't like to be too vocal in public, and even less on the 
morning train, but this woman was preventing some passengers from 
taking the seats nearby with her outrageous display. She said, "I am 
sorry.  I am late for work myself.  I don't know how this always 
happens to-" She paused immediately when she turned around and made eye 
contact with me. With her pause I returned, "You will be all right, but 
please you must calm down."  I gave her a stern look, then turned to 
face the front of the train again and then continued preparing my 
opening statement for this morning's meeting.  I expected that my small 
insertion would be the last of this situation, I was certainly 
surprised with what followed. 

She was no longer wiggling and jiggling.  She instantly forgot about her
trolley dance and virtually flipped her whole attitude.  "I know you 
from somewhere." She said with a smile. Confused, I turned back towards 
her.  Looking into her beautiful eyes, I was puzzled by her statement, 
I began to think.  Upon close examination I saw that she was a very 
attractive woman.  She had that blonde 'California look' with a great 
smile -- just my type. "I walk to work, most days, just like you." I 
stopped her, "you must be thinking of someone else," now getting 
nervous of this girl that thinks she knows me. "I have never seen you 
before in my life." I took a step back.  I wondered if this was a 
mistake of hers, or a mistake of mine.  For some time now since she 
said that she recognized me I had begun trying to remember if I may 
have in fact actually met her in a bar or a club or such, had too many 
beers, and simply forgotten her name and face. Of course it didn't take 
long to tangent from that thought to a thought of us possibly both 
getting a fair amount of drinks in us and moving on to complete the 
night in a typical adolescent manner.  Then awakening together confused 
about how we achieved our current location and how we met each other.  
My thoughts were racing as they projected further. It is a rare 
occurrence for me these days to meet someone and then take them home 
for just one night.  In my college days, similar stuations came up 
occaisionally, but lately I have been far too busy with my work; 

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