Katie and The Pizza Man

I stepped back out onto the street, took about five steps, and opened the door leading to the upstairs apartments. I looked up to the top of the narrow, wooden steps, took a deep breath, and started up. I took two steps and hesitated--was I really willing to do it? It was likely to change our relationship dramatically, and I would have to face that reality. I found I couldn't resist the thoughts that compelled me to move forward after my brief hesitation.

With each step I took a small creak or squeak sounded as my weight settled onto the worn wooden steps--the sounds made me feel a little uneasy in the dim light of the single, bare bulb at the landing above me. My skirt swished, rubbing against my legs with each step, and the warm tingle between my legs that had urged me to come was evident. I knew others had tread this way before, but this was my second time, though in a way my first. His seduction had led me here, and I knew when I joined him I would be in his arms--then in all likelihood, his bed.

There were things that were mysterious about him--with what he seemed to be and what I observed. Things that didn't quite match. Our four dates had been wonderful and I was drawn to him despite the seeming inconsistencies of his job as a pizza delivery man with the words he used, and the way he behaved around women. I had two years of college and knew how an educated man spoke--it's not the same as a guy with a high school diploma, or a dropout who delivers pizzas. But, did it really matter right now?

I knew Clark, just as he knew me. He was a regular at the small bar that occupied the floor below his apartment. Over the past year he had joined my girlfriends and myself from time to time to share a drink as we watched a basketball, or football game on the large TV screen. He wasn't the most handsome man, not that he wasn't above average, but he came off like any other man when you looked at him. He was of medium build, with longish well-groomed hair, brown eyes, and by evening you could tell he had a heavy beard by the stubble on his face. He looked ruggedly handsome I had decided after a while.

He was friendly, flirty, and fun to be around. He didn't use foul language like many of the men we encountered in the bar--he wasn't shy around women either. In fact, he could say things to women, including me, that if spoken by any other man, would have gotten their faces slapped. It was his confident mannerisms that drew you in--he was a man, and you were a women--he knew the difference in a respectful, if naughty way.

When he put his arm around your shoulders it felt good to have his attention as he gave you a gentle hug. He looked at you and would whisper into your ear something completely innocuous. But, the other women at the table always took note--not knowing what he was sharing with you. It made you feel special in a way. It didn't seem to matter that he did the same thing with all of us women. Maybe that was why we all felt so comfortable with him--he was a wonderful tease.

Months earlier my girlfriend Maggie had broken up with her boyfriend the three weeks earlier and we were commiserating with her. After a few minutes Clark sat down next to her, put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. She leaned onto him and rested her head on his shoulder--she had a smile on her face. I watched as he whispered into her ear. She took her head off his shoulder and looked at him--her smile wider as she nodded. Clark got up from his chair and told us he would be back in a little while. We turned our attention to the TV again. It was several minutes later when Maggie spoke softly into my ear.

"Katie, I'll be back in about half an hour. Don't worry, everything is fine."

I nodded my understanding and watched as she walked out the front door, then took a right turn disappearing from sight. I wondered why she had left--but since she said she was good I turned my attention back to the TV and our other friends. Good to her word, Maggie came and sat down in her chair next to me just over half an hour later.

I turned to look at her and was surprised as she sat next to me. She had a rosy glow to her face and a smile that expressed she was feeling good. If I hadn't known better I would have thought she had gotten laid. I shook it off--no way, where would she had gone to do that.

"Are you okay? You look flushed."

She put her hand to her face. "Shit."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it was every bit as good as I thought it was."

Just then the crowd in the bar went wild as the last shot on the basket went in--the game won by a single point. Maggie never answered my question, and I decided to let it pass. It really didn't matter, she was happier than I had seen her in a long while.

Clark walked in a few minutes later, and sat down next to Maggie. "What did I miss?"

"State just won the game by a foul shot in overtime," I replied excitedly.

"Shoot, I'd like to say I'm sorry I missed it...but well...I'm not exactly." As he placed his hand on Maggie's shoulder.

She looked up at him apologetically. "Sorry."

"Seeing the smile on your face says you aren't"

She laughed, "No, I'm not."

The next two times we went to the bar Maggie and Clark disappeared for about half an hour. The third time it happened I finally figured out it wasn't by coincidence. When I asked Maggie about it later she told me Clark had offered to take care of her for a while if she wanted him to.

"Katie, he knows how to take care of a woman. He doesn't pretend he loves you, he tells you he understands you need attention and affection. It's the best decision I've made in a while that's actually made me happy. I know it's just sex, but it's enough for now."

Her response shocked me at the time. Not only because she had had sex with him, but that even after she started dating again they remained as friendly as before. Even when her new boyfriend joined us on a regular basis later they remained friendly. I didn't pass judgement. She was an adult, and I wasn't her mother. I realized it had worked for her at the time, and she had been the better for it. Of course, it was something I thought I would never do myself. Now, as I took another step closer to the landing, I knew I was wrong. After four dates I was ready to give myself to him lock, stock, and barrel.

I had broken up with my boyfriend of five months three weeks earlier before Clark asked me out. I told him no the first time--then the second. He took the refusals well, and it didn't seem to affect the way he treated me--we joked and spent time together at the bar every Thursday night same as before. He would whisper suggestive things into my ear, and I would look at him as if I was annoyed. Then he would put this impish grin on his face and I would burst out laughing--I couldn't help it.

One time while we sat together watching a football game he looked at me with a smile. I knew he was going to say something to get a rise out of me, and I leaned over so he could whisper into my ear.

"You know, if you ever pull your panties down, and let me in you're never going to want another man in your life."

I looked at him and laughed. "You're never going to see my panties. So, there!"

"Bet you I know what color the panties are you're wearing."

"No way. You can't know that," I replied confidently.

"They're pink with a small blue flower pattern."

My eyes went wide, "Clark!"

They were and there was no way he could have seen up my skirt. I was totally taken aback as he chuckled. Then, he turned back to the TV screen, and didn't say another word.

I recalled his comment a week later about having sex that I made the connection between what he had done for Maggie. Was he offering me the same thing? If he were, I wasn't interested. Was I?

It was a Wednesday evening, and I decided to go to the bar alone to watch a game. I was sipping my drink when a guy I didn't recognize walked up.

"Hey, beautiful, mind if I join you?"

Not a terribly great pickup line--but he was cute enough. We started talking, trading names as we watched a football game rerun. Bill was maybe three years older with blondish long-hair, and on the thin side. After a while, he placed his hand on mine briefly and waited to see what I would say. I didn't jerk my hand away or give him a dirty look--it was okay. We talked a bit more and he moved closer, putting his arm around the back of my chair as we watched the game. A few minutes later his arm came up around my back, and I was feeling a little edgy--it was still okay. Again, I didn't move away from him--it felt good to have a man pay some attention to me. Sure he was a stranger--it seemed a bit daring and exciting though. Maybe a kiss or two wouldn't be bad either, he had wonderful eyes--it was more a fantasy than something I really wanted to happen.

I could tell he was getting ready to make a real move when his hand disappeared from my back and went below the table. I wasn't feeling too good about it--now I was ready to tell him to back-off. His hand had barely touched my bared knee when Clark sat down next to me. Bill quickly removed his hand giving Clark a quick look suggesting he wasn't wanted. I knew the guy was moving a little too fast for me--I wasn't there to get hooked up for the night. I knew then I should have shut him down when he put his arm around the chair to touch my back.

"Katie, are you doing okay? It's not your regular night."

"Oh, hi Clark. No, just a little bored and lonely tonight. I needed to get out."

"So, who's your friend?"

"This is Bill. He says he comes in from time to time."

Bill glared at Clark, and I could tell something was going on. I was about to make a more formal introduction between them when Bill spoke.

"Look, it's nice to meet you. But Katie and I really aren't looking for company." The look he gave Clark was withering.

"Aren't you the guy that knocked Betty Perkins up a few months ago?" Clark asked as if it were common knowledge and he was verifying its accuracy.

Bill just gave him a stare meant to kill and sat silent.

"I thought so," Clark replied coolly, "I think maybe it's time you took a stroll, and Katie isn't going with you."

Bill gave a low growl, "You don't..."

I cut him off, "Yes, actually. I think he can speak for me."

I watched as Bill got up and left the bar. I had the feeling I had really screwed up. I very well might have gotten myself into something I couldn't handle. I felt a little unnerved knowing Clark had seen what was going on and I hadn't. He could have let me leave with Bill after I had refused his offer of a date. But he hadn't been that petty--he had protected me instead.

"Clark, thank you. I should have told him to buzz off earlier."

"You want some good company?"

Thinking Clark was referring to himself, my response was immediate, "Yes, of course."

"Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll see if I can find a nice guy for you," as he started to walk away.

Flabbergasted. I struggled for words, "Clark, what are you doing?"

He turned with a frown, "Going to find a nice guy for you to spend time with. That's what you want isn't it?"

"Yes, but I thought you was going to sit with me."

"Katie, you need someone. I know that. If it isn't me, then it should be someone you'll be safe and have fun with," he said earnestly.

"Clark, come back and sit down with me, I pleaded, knowing now I had been terribly wrong not to have accepted a date from him. How blind and stupid could I be?

He sat down next to me. "Sorry if I butted in where I didn't belong. I just didn't want you to go out with a creep who would have taken advantage of you."

I reached over, placing my hand on top of his, "Clark, I appreciate what you did. I was stupid. I guess you could say it wasn't one of the best moves of my life."

He could have agreed with my assessment. But he looked at me with a smile and leaned towards me. I moved towards him as he whispered into my ear "You know, if you took those yellow panties with the little cats on them off for me we could have some fun."

"Clark! Damn you. Stop it!" I laughed as I leaned back from him.

My face felt hot as I realized I was wearing my yellow bra and panties with the black cats on them. How the hell was he able to see them? I looked at him as that impish grin filled his face. Now, I wished he would ask me out again.

Instead, he looked at me. "You okay now? I have to leave for work--those pizza pies need to be delivered hot."

"I'm fine. Will you be here tomorrow night?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?" he replied over his shoulder as he walked away.

I went home half an hour later and sat down to read for a while. I had accepted a date the week before from a guy I knew from work and it hadn't gone well. In fact, I considered it the worst date I'd ever had. We had nothing in common other than work and who wants to talk about work all the time. Despite my best efforts to find common ground there was none. He hadn't called me for another date and I considered it a blessing. I admitted to myself again I was lonely and was thankful the next day was Thursday and our gang would meet at the bar. I thought of calling Maggie, but when I saw the time decided it was too late to bother her.

After work the next day I parked my car in the parking lot next to the bar and as I walked in saw the tired looking, blue Mazda with the Pizza sign on the roof. Clark was there and I felt a little excitement grow knowing he would make me feel better with his off-beat sense of humor. It was different from anyone else's I could think of--not immature, not silly, it was mature, and often puny. It usually involved what he saw, or what we were engaged in at the time--it was intelligent. It was hard to take offense at his suggestive comments as unless you were a complete prude, they were good-natured, and not crude.

I was the last one to arrive of our usual group and I found an empty chair next to Maggie who was sitting next to our friend, Hank. Clark and Hank were talking when I sat down, and they both greeted me warmly. It was interesting John, her boyfriend wasn't with her tonight. I was wondering if Clark would make a comment about my being at the bar alone the night before. But he didn't bring it up and he didn't move around the table to sit near me. He looked at me several times as we drank--each time I would smile at him. Perhaps he knew it was a sign I was really getting lonely and wanted some attention. It was then I realized I was at a point where Maggie had been months before, and he had taken her in, so to speak.

I ordered another drink as Maggie and I sat talking--neither one of us paying attention to the TV screen or the others. I decided to use the ladies room and walked towards the rear of the bar. On my way passing a table of guys who gave me a good looking over. I heard a crude comment once I was past them--typical men when there were three or more of them. That was when men started to objectify a woman as a sexual object.

It was something, quite frankly, I hadn't known about until Clark had pointed it out to me as we were talking about how men and women related to each other differently. After that discussion, I had taken note of how men spoke about women while I sat in the bar. I found he was right. When two or three men were looking and talking about a woman they viewed her as a person--their comments were generally positive in nature. Usually the comments were about her physical appearance, unless they knew her personally, then broadened to include her intelligence or abilities. Beyond that number, the comments generally became cruder with sexual innuendo accompanied by raucous laughter.

It wasn't that women didn't talk about men--they did. To be honest, it could get pretty raunchy. Given my own experience, these conversations were conducted where no men could overhear the comments. Women could indeed be crude--but they chose not to reveal this behavior beyond their own group, and sex. Men were not as discriminating in that respect.

It was on my return to our table when one of the men, perhaps a little more inebriated than the others, or simply trying to be macho, called to me as I passed.

"Hey, baby. How about lifting that skirt so I can see that beautiful ass."

I pretended not to have heard the comment in the crowded, noisy, bar. As I walked, it was apparent many of the other customers had. I continued walking and was about to sit down when I felt the presence of the man a few steps behind me. I felt my heart come to my throat. Shit! I really didn't need this.

I had turned to get into my chair when the man took another step and ran smack-dab into Clark. Now Clark wasn't a huge man, but he was solid, and the man came to an abrupt, surprised stop. He looked at Clark with a shocked look, recovered, and started to go around him to get to me.

Clark took a step sideways, placing himself between us. The man looked at him blankly, then said louder than necessary, "Sorry, but I want to talk to this bitch."

The only sound I could hear was the TV on low. The conversations and the tinkle of ice in glasses, or the sound of glasses being set down onto a nearby table top faded. I stood speechless, not sure what was going to happen.

Clark looked the man square in the eye, "I think you should go back to your table and leave the lady alone."

He appeared to size Clark up, then took a step backward without saying a word. I held my breath as I saw his hands clench into a fist.

"Not a good idea dude," Clark growled.

Two of the man's buddies came running up and pulled him back towards their table. I released the breath I didn't know I was holding, and sat down in my chair. I was convinced they had just saved his ass from a beating. The fierce look in Clark's eyes was something I had never seen before and knew I wouldn't ever forget.

Clark looked at me. "You going to be alright?"

I nodded.

Clark sat down, his back to the table the man had come from as the normal noises of the bar resumed. The manager walked over to Clark. "Thanks for handling that Clark. I've been keeping my eye on that table and was ready to cut them off. If they don't leave in a few minutes I'm going to invite them to leave."

Then the manager looked at me, "Miss, I'm sorry you were treated that way. Your drinks are on the house for the rest of the night, and next Thursday when you come in. I do appreciate your business."

"Thank you. I appreciate your kindness," I replied.

Maggie looked at me, "Well, I guess you have a knight in shining armor looking after you."

"I guess so. I didn't think Clark could be that way."

"Katie, a man does that when he's a good man and respects women. I was sure Clark was going to rip that idiot to shreds. You might want to think about how Clark feels about you."

I was considering her words when I noticed the table the jerk had been sitting at got up to leave. His friends kept themselves between their buddy and Clark as they walked past us. This bitch had someone who looked after her. I glanced at Clark and when our eyes met he smiled. I smiled back. A few minutes later the chair next to me opened up as one of our friends left. A minute later, Clark walked around the table and sat down next to me. I knew the look and what it meant--I leaned over for him to whisper into my ear.

"You don't know where I could find a good looking bitch with a fine ass do you? I might want to ask her for a date."

"Clark!"

Maggie, and the rest of our group looked at us with a smile.

I leaned towards Clark and said softly, "I do. I know she would accept a date anytime you offer. Just let me know and I'll tell her."

He smiled at me, "Can you use another Coke. I can afford it."

I placed my hand on his as I laughed, "One more, than I have to get going. I have to work tomorrow remember."