The Little Piggy

There will always be stories about, “The One That Got Away.” Realistically, in a world of a million possible candidates, each one of us would likely have had more than one. For me, one of them was a young lady named, Leslie. As people walk in and out of our lives, most of us will only remember the day we met and the day we parted ways. Leslie’s story is no different.

She worked in the same hotel I used to service as an advertising photographer and since she was with the sales department, our paths were bound to cross, until one day, that was exactly what happened. My team was set to do a major shoot of the hotel’s rooms and other amenities and the Sales and PR Departments were to supervise the project.

When the actual photography was underway, we were shooting a deluxe suite when she and her boss, Malou, whom I was dating at the time showed up to sit in. Because we were both working, Malou and I had to act professional and no displays of affection were expected. We all shook hands and she called her associate over. It was amusing how Leslie practically jumped out from behind her!

“Hi, I’m Les-leeee!”

--“Hey, Leslie!”

“Can I take a peek?”

--“Most certainly!”

So, she goes over to where the tripod-mounted camera was and arched her feet just to reach the viewfinder.

“Amazing, the room looks larger than it actually is!”

--“Yes, that’s what wide-angle lenses are for—to exaggerate space.”

“That is so cool, I can’t wait to see the trannies (photo transparencies)! I’d like to see them when they’re done!”

--“Sure thing, Les!”

I didn’t think much about it since I was still going out with Malou at the time but I had to admit that Leslie was cute and she stirred something inside me. I mostly kept out of her way and we hardly ever saw each other unless I had to pick up Malou from her office, which was only on occasion.

Time passed and things and people changed. So, did my relationship with Malou and we ended up breaking up after intermittent dating, a couple of years after. Leslie was the first person to ask me how I was doing. I was surprised she even cared. I was just waiting out the traffic and having a coffee and a smoke at the hotel lobby when she passed as she was out for the night.

“Hey there!”

--” Hi, Les!”

“Sorry to pry, but I heard…”

--“Oh…yeah…that’s life.”

“How’re you holdin’ up?”

--“I’m really no good at this and there really isn’t a better way to get this done but I’m fine.”

Leslie turns for the door and stops then turns around and snatches the napkin on my table. She takes out a pen and scribbles…

“Here, that’s my home phone number. Buzz me when you need a sounding board, okay?”

I was absolutely stunned at the gesture but all I could really say was, “Thanks.”

So, Les and I began talking as soon as I got home. Sometimes, I would catch her after work and we’d grab dinner or a cup of coffee at the Dunkin Donuts shop just outside the hotel. On one occasion, while we were having a light conversation, I stopped and was transfixed at her face and the way she looked at that particular moment that I suddenly ripped my Domke open and took out my Nikon with the 50mm/1.8 lens and took quick snaps. She giggled but didn’t object to the intrusion. She actually liked it but felt shy and slightly awkward but I calmed her down until she was comfortable with the impromptu sitting.

“Sorry, Les, I couldn’t help it!”

--“That’s fine. I’m just not used to being in front of a camera.”

“Oh, but you look perfect under this light!”

Of course, she did and all of a sudden, I realized how blind I was not to have seen how beautiful she was and how much better it was when I was with her than when I was with Malou. In that instant, a sleeping monster had awakened and there was no taming it!

It had been over a year since Malou and I had broken up and although there was no closure to our relationship, I was over her and was intent on moving forward with my life. I felt it was time to write the next chapter in the book of my life.

Leslie and I would go out regularly, at least twice a week and we’d also see each other on weekends. We went to a few movies since we were both single at the time and she was free to see anyone she liked. Sometimes, we’d go to the Breakwater with a book and I would read to her in my harsh “British accent”. Whenever I’d feel like doing something exciting, Leslie would be my first choice as partner-in-crime!

It was also the beginning of my writing hobby as I wrote to deal with my pain and I chronicled our adventures together. My poetry at the time were mostly bitter and angry and she would always point that out.

“Hey, you should write happier poems!”

--“Well, I really can’t write when I’m happy. Besides, putting my thoughts on paper helps ease the pain a lot!”

“Okay, but just remember that I’m here now. There’s really no need to be sad.”

--”I appreciate that, Les! I’m just hoping to get back up as soon as I can and move forward.”

“Well, you can’t move forward if you’re always looking back now, can you?”

--“I know and thank you for pointing that out.”

Leslie moved me in ways that only she could. In hindsight, I could never understand why I never made a move on her. There was an entire month that we didn’t see each other. She was out of the country for a business trip and when she got back, she called me that same night.

“Abs?”

--“Yes, Leslie?”

“Are you free on Thursday?”

--“I might be but that would be after work, around 7. What’s up?”

“Mmmm…I did something crazy, hahaha! Hey, make sure I’d see you on Thursday, seven-ish, okay?”

It was much more of a challenge to book an appointment back in the day. There were no mobile phones of even pagers and there’s was no way to cancel a meet once you agreed to a time and place so I did my best to be at our favorite Dunkin Donuts outlet at around a quarter to seven that night. Thankfully, she was a stickler for punctuality and she walked in a tick before the clock struck 7:00.

“There you are!”

--“Ey, Les! What’s the big surprise? Did you go bungee jumping or sky diving?”

“Nope!”

--“You had sex on the beach with a total stranger?”

“Gosh, no, silly!”

--“Okay, the suspense is killing me! What is it?”

“I got inked!”

--“Fuck, no!”

“Oh, fuck yes!” She hardly ever swore, being a good Catholic and I was shocked she finally did that one time!

“Jesus Christ, this is big!”

--“It’s small, actually.”

There, in that packed coffee shop, with eyes all around us, she lifts her blouse, pulls down her skirt and the upper part of her undies, and shows me a little “pig” tattoo that was set dangerously close to her round bottom!

“Why, pray tell, would you get a pig tatoo so close to your toosh?”

--“Cute isn’t it?”

It was the first time I’ve seen so much of her—her back was so smooth and clearly, the “piggy” was resting on her right butt cheek. Suddenly, I felt jealous of the lucky guy who stuck his needle in such a fine lady’s ass!

I know Leslie was never that adventurous and she would never do anything risqué. I was seeing a different person at the moment and my groins suddenly felt an aching I could not conceal. Deep down, I was kicking myself in the head for being too hung up on Malou while there was this angel who stuck it out with me all that time!

“Les, I’m speechless…I can’t quite find the words right now…why a ‘piggy’?”

--“Well, it’s actually a statement—a pun, if you will.”

“In plain English, please?”

--“Uh, I always thought pigs were cute and I always wanted to do something that would shock people so I had this ‘piggy’ inked on my pigi, get it?”

“Holy shit, that’s brilliant!” (Actually, I wanted to say, “I’d love to lick you in the piggy and fuck your brains out!”)

I was still mesmerized at the sight when she pulled my by the earlobes and gave me a gentle slap on the cheek.

“Hey, you remember that promotion I told you about?”

--“Yeah, that gig in Osaka?”

“Yes, I GOT IT!”

It was as if a 45-foot meteorite had made impact and I felt my world getting blown to bits! I wanted to scream and lash out in anger but all I said was, “Oh…”

“Ey, you okay?”

--“I’m…not, actually.”

“Ey, we talked about this, remember? We both agreed we’d still be friends even when I was away, right?”

--“Right…”

“I’m so sorry. I’m leaving in two months and there’ll be a lot to get fixed.”

--“There any chance you’d come back?”

“I honestly don’t know…”

--“Well…I guess I should be…happy? You always wanted that job.”

“Yes, it’s my dream job, Abs. Don’t worry, we’ll still be buddies!”

(“Buddies”, how I hated that word!)

The night didn’t go so well for both of us. We were practically in tears when we went our separate ways. I had to do a commercial shoot that week. She never showed up for work to take care of her papers and moving her stuff. That was the last time we saw each other.

The next day, I had the afternoon off. I went to the mall and bought a hardbound notebook and walked along the Breakwater with my camera and took a few sunset photos then sat down and watched the afterglow. I took out the notebook from it’s wrapping and opened it. I would never write a happy poem—ever!