Nina's Painful Weekend in NY

Everywhere I look in this attic, I see memories. My husband and I moved into this house shortly after our wedding. Our children grew up here. We laughed, we cried, we dreamed, we loved here. It feels so surreal and bittersweet to be moving. This house is like a museum to our lives. But time moves on. The kids left long ago and raised their own families. I'm a grandmother. My husband and I are in our so-called "golden years." With our health and physical limitations, we need a smaller and simpler place.

It's impossible not to feel emotional while cleaning out the attic. Mostly everything stored here will go. There are sports trophies and scholastic awards. There are old toys that I've kept around for sentimental reasons. There are some old books and old clothes. Some of the kids' artwork from school is still here. In a corner of the attic, I notice some collectibles. I thought my son Rick had taken these long ago.

As I rummage through sports memorabilia and baseball cards, I experience another flood of happy memories. I see a pile of old comic books and magazines. Are these worth good money? I wondered. As I flip through the pile of nostalgia, one particular magazine slides from the stack and practically into my lap. I gasp. I didn't know it still existed, but there it is, a reminder of an incident long ago that I'd rather forget. I glance again at the cover. Sports Review Wrestling August 1977. On the cover, WWWF Champion Superstar Billy Graham stares back at me in his tight tie-dyed T-shirt and head bandana flexing his massive python biceps. But it was another photo inserted to the right of Superstar that haunts me. A redhead in a bikini is twisting the arm of a brunette, also in a bikini. Below is a caption declaring the action "a titanic apartment house wrestling match." I remember it well - Apartment House Wrestling. The memories are vivid, too much so. It was the summer of 1977. Jimmy Carter was in the White House. I remember Son of Sam terrorizing New York City. I remember it was the summer Elvis Presley died. I remember it all now...And I remember Nina.

Yes, it was the summer of 1977. Nina, Tina, and I were your typical suburban moms. Our teenage sons were friends. Our husbands had common interests. I think I was the one who thought of the idea first. We would all spend a weekend in New York City. However, we would split by gender. The boys and the dads would go together. Meanwhile, the moms would have their own separate getaway in the Big Apple. The guys planned to watch pro wrestling at Madison Square Garden on Saturday, then a Yankees game on Sunday. The ladies would shop on Saturday, then see a new hit Broadway show called "Annie" on Sunday. Then on Sunday night, we'd all return home.

It was late Friday afternoon. Nina and Tina would be over soon. Our husbands were expected to return from work any minute. Rick and his friends were downstairs in the game room, excited about the trip. They would see Superstar Billy Graham defend his belt against the legendary Bruno Sammartino, the man he stole it from by cheating, in a steel cage return match. From below the stairs, the boys bantered. With the door at the top of the stairs opened, I could hear every word.

"Bruno's gonna kill him," my son, Rick, said.

"I don't know. Graham is very tricky. He could pull it off again," Nina's son, Jim suggested.

"I bet there will be blood everywhere," Tina's son, Bobby, excitedly interjected.

The debate continued for several minutes before shifting to other wrestling topics. I heard the names of Andre the Giant, Ivan Koloff, and "Big Cat" Ernie Ladd. Then the conversation took a turn I did not see coming.

"Who's the best ever apartment house wrestler, Salome or Denise?" my son asked.

"Salome sucked," Bobby answered. "She had one lucky win against Cynara, then did nothing."

"Cynara beat Denise twice," Jim added. "I still think she's the best. Who cares? They're old now. That was a few years ago."

"Hold on, guys," I heard my son say, "I got the latest issue right here. Check this out, Olivia vs. Claire. Two bikini babes. A wife against a mistress."

"No way."

"Let me see that."

"Hey, don't grab."

"Look, she's about to go for the tits."

"Oh man, she's sunk her claws in her ass."

The conversation stopped me in my tracks. Women? Apartment house? Bikinis? Wife? Mistress? Tits and asses? Did my son get his hands on some porn material? I was about to find out.

I scurried down the stairs under the guise of being a good hostess. I saw them on the floor with a wrestling magazine turned faced down. Rick bought them every month at the drug store, so I knew it wasn't porn. What were they looking at?

"Would you boys like anything else to drink?"

They shook their heads. "No, Mom, we're good," Rick answered.

I headed back upstairs and continued to listen in.

"Take a look at these pictures of Olivia," Rick said. "Do you think our moms could take her?"

"My mom could definitely take her," Tina's son, Bobby, said emphatically.

"I think it'd be close and very tough," Rick pontificated. "But I'd have to go with my mom."

"Yeah," Nina's son Jim added. "I'd pick my mom over Olivia."

"No way," Bobby argued. "Olivia would crush your mom."

"My mom is a lot tougher than she looks," Jim objected.

"Alright, guys," Rick interrupted. "Let's say our moms are in a round-robin apartment house wrestling tournament. First up is Bobby's mom against Jim's mom."

"My mom, easy," Bobby was quick to answer. "She's taller, and she's a better athlete."

"No, my mom," Jim retorted. "She might be short, but she's strong and can hold her own."

"Alright, Rick," Bobby said. "You're the tiebreaker. Who wins? My mom or Jim's mom?"

"Um..." my son stuttered. "Uh...that's a tough one...Uh...I don't know. Let's call it a draw."

I breathed a strange sigh of relief. At least my son had learned diplomacy and gave a politically safe answer. In all honesty, I'd never wanted to see my friends fight, but if they did, I was sure Tina would trounce Nina. Bobby was right. Tina was a beautiful woman. At 5'6" and long straight black silky hair and tan skin, she had exotic features, like a Polynesian. Nina was 5'3" with a thick but voluptuous 140 lb and a massive 40-inch bosom.

Tina was a good friend. She could be assertive, and she had a mischievous and adventurous side to her. Nina was an easygoing type, generally quiet and passive. For some reason, she seemed to attract trouble and ended up in conflicts due to odd misunderstandings, but she would stand up for herself when bullied. There were rumors that she had a few fights. One story said that on Labor Day weekend at the beach, she fought the same woman twice and lost both times badly. She never discussed it, and I never asked her, but Tina would always have a good laugh trying to imagine it.

The boys' conversation continued. "Okay," Jim said. "Next match, Rick's mom versus Bobby's mom."

The men arrived. Perfect timing to end this inane adolescent discussion. "Let's go, boys," I shout. "Time to go."

We loaded up the station wagons and headed for the big city. I drove the women while Tina's husband drove the six guys. The drive was only a little over an hour and a half from the suburbs. Manhattan at night looked fantastic. The girls and I checked into our hotel and had a few drinks in the lounge. Afterward, we had enough time to take a walk through Rockefeller Center. The panoramic view of the city from the Top Of The Rock Observation Deck was breathtaking. As it was getting late, we headed back to our hotel.

As we walked along the sidewalk, I paused to glance through the many magazines on display at the newsstand. What I saw made my jaw drop. On full display, among the sports mags, it was there, standing out. Sports Review Wrestling. Superstar Billy Graham was on the cover. There was more. Two young women, Olivia and Claire, in bikinis, locked in a vicious struggle.

"So, that's it," I said out loud. That's what Rick is reading. That's what the boys were talking about. Do they buy this trash at the drugstore? I needed to know more. As Nina and Tina were window shopping nearby, I purchased the magazine and buried it in my handbag.

We stopped at the hotel bar for more drinks. Perhaps we had a little too much. In our hotel room, we continued our giddy, girly conversation.

"So, do you think our boys are having sex yet?" Tina giggled, half drunk.

"Well, I can assure you that they think and talk about girls," I answered. "You should have heard them earlier today."

With those words, My two friends perked up. "Tell us, Edie," they insisted.

Oh no, I thought. What did I just open up? I reached into the handbag and showed them the magazine.

"This is what they're reading," I informed.

"Well, Lordy, will you look at that," Tina laughed. Nina gasped. We flipped through the pages.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Well," Tina suggested, "I think our boys are growing up. I see two bimbos fighting in bikinis, and our boys enjoy it. Look at this picture...the redhead got her...Ouch."

"So,..." I asked, "Do you think we need to be concerned?"

"I don't," Tina responded. "It seems perfectly natural to me. It could be a lot worse. They get this at the drugstore. We can't keep our kids locked inside a bubble." Nina nodded.

"I guess you're right," I assented. "They're teenage boys. Of course, they're going to look at pictures of girls." I laughed. "You should have heard them. They wondered how we would fare if we fought these women."

"Well," Tina chuckled, "In my younger and wild days, I might have done something like this. HeIl, even now, I bet I could take that brunette." The three of us laughed.

"And that's not all," I added. "They debated which of you would win against each other." We laughed even louder, but something told me I revealed something best left unsaid.

"Well, they chose me, didn't they?" Tina chuckled. "They couldn't possibly think Nina could beat me." At this point, I suspected we all had at least one drink too many.

"No," I answered. "They decided it would be a draw."

"A draw?" Tina cackled, her voice becoming louder. "Well, we can't have that, can we? We're just going to have to settle it right now. Come on, Nina. Let's you and I wrestle right here."

I didn't like this. Tina and Nina generally got along, but Tina had a habit of flinging subtle putdowns at Nina. It seemed to me that Tina had insecurity issues, and verbal jabs at Nina were one way she tried to feel better about herself. Sometimes, Nina gave it back to her, but more often, she silently took it. Nina had a passively agreeable personality, but I knew she would get annoyed at Tina's ribbing, and I mentioned it to Tina.

"I know," Tina continued. "Let's have a three-way wrestling tournament. There are two queen-sized beds in this room and three of us. The winner gets the bed to herself while the two losers sleep together."

"Count me out," I said. "I'm exhausted, and I want to get to sleep. I don't mind sharing the bed."

"That leaves Nina and me," Tina responded. "Ready, Nina?"

"Oh, I don't know about this," Nina answered.

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun," Tina urged. "It'll be just us girls having a fun tussle, just like those junior high school sleepovers. Let's strip down to our panties, we'll tangle, and the first person to get a three-count pin gets the bed. So let's do it."

"Oh, okay," Nina muttered. Typical Nina. She doesn't like confrontation and usually capitulates when pushed.

"Oh, you're not really going to do this?" I moaned.

The two neighborhood moms undressed to their bra and panties before climbing onto the bed, facing each other on their knees. "Ready?" Tina inquired. "On the count of three, our girls come out...One...Two...Three." Both women reached behind their backs, releasing the bra clasps, before pulling the straps off their shoulders.

"Impressive!" Tina exclaimed, marveling at Nina's 40-inch mammaries. Tina's boobs were no slouch either, proportionate for her body and perky for a woman close to forty years old, with her lively nipples still pointing more straight ahead than downward. I noticed Tina wearing sexy black bikini briefs while Nina was dressed in only white cotton panties. "Now, get ready to wrestle," Tina instructed,..."Ready, set, GO!"

The two women threw their arms around each other, giggling, as they tried to pull each other down on the bed. Nina, with the stronger upper body, forced Tina on her back. Tina wrapped her long legs around Nina's waist as the topless grapplers rolled side to side. Finally, they rolled off the bed and onto the floor, still locked together.

Tina had the advantage on top of Nina but couldn't gain enough leverage to pin her shoulders. Finally, the long dark haired beauty rose, broke the hold then stood on her feet. As Nina slowly picked herself off the floor, Tina picked up a pillow from the bed, swung, and whacked Nina in the face with it knocking her back to the floor.

The shorter, older woman was stunned and confused but unhurt as Tina dove onto her chest, planted her knees on the shoulders, and pinned her arms to the carpet. "One," Tina counted. "Two...and three...I win!" Tina stood up and rose her arms in victory.

"You cheated," I protested.

"Yeah, Tina, you cheated," Nina added.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Tina snickered. "Pillows are fair game. It looks like the queen gets the queen bed to herself."

The following morning, we had breakfast at the hotel restaurant. We said nothing about my friends wrestling the previous night. I wanted to believe it was nothing more than half-drunk girly fun. Our day was planned; after breakfast, we would hit 5th Avenue. After the waitress took our orders, we talked about which stores we'd visit until Tina changed the topic. "Hey, Edie, let's see that wrestling magazine again," she suggested before I handed it to her from my handbag.

"What was that called? Apartment house wrestling?" She asked, flipping through the pages with her manicured, dark red polished nails. "Oh, here. My goodness, will you look at that? Listen to what it says," she laughed as she began to read aloud:

"Olivia's magnificent body arches with strength as she cruelly bends back Claire's lithe legs. The look of the conqueror turns Olivia's exquisite face into a mask of savage power lust."

"Can you imagine?" Tina laughed loudly, nearly choking on her orange juice. Here is some more:

"Olivia pushes Claire's face into the carpet, rubbing flesh across fabric until Claire's cheeks and forehead sting from carpet burns."

"Ha, ha," she laughed. "Just look at this picture. Where can I sign up for this?"

"Tina, please keep your voice down," I requested, afraid of attracting attention. It was too late. At the next table, a party of three men dressed in the most expensive suits I've ever seen in my life looked at us with strange curiosity. One of them in particular, a tall, dark-haired man in sunglasses, seemed especially interested. Tina continued:

"Olivia doubles Claire over, turning the blonde's exquisite body into a mess of agonized flesh."

"So there, you have it," Tina announced. "Olivia is the winner...I'll take her on."

"Tina, STOP," I pleaded. That man is staring at us. The three of us turned our heads to the next table, catching the gawker in the act. The man gave us a slight smile and a wave.

"Let's get out of here and hit the shops," I said. As we waited for the check, the three men left and headed for the lobby. I noticed the tall man with sunglasses talking to the hotel clerk as he pointed at us."

"This is creepy," I said. "Thanks, Tina, for attracting perverts."

We had a lovely morning walking around town, making stops at Saks Fifth Avenue, Bloomingdale's, Lord & Taylor, and a new sexy lingerie store called Victoria's Secret. After lunch, to prevent inflicting further damage to our credit cards, we decided to head back to the hotel for a rest, then spend the evening at Radio City Music Hall. When we asked the hotel clerk for directions, things suddenly became very strange.

"Oh," said the young lady behind the desk. "Your room has been upgraded. You are now staying in the top floor penthouse."

"No, I think you made a mistake," I said. "We didn't ask for an upgrade. That's out of our price range."

"There's no mistake," the clerk insisted after verifying our names. "You are the guests of Mr. David Martin. He's arranged for you to stay in one of his private penthouses."

"That's not right," I insisted. "We don't know a David Martin."

"Oh? Well, Mr. Martin specifically pointed you out after breakfast and ordered us to move you to the top. He also paid off your balance, so your account with us is closed."

"You mean that guy in the suit and sunglasses? This is weird."

"You see," the clerk explained. "Mr. Martin is an international financier. He used to own this hotel. When he sold it, he retained the penthouse rooms on the top floor for his personal use. He brings in many wealthy and famous men from around the world to stay in his apartments. This morning, he asked if you were visitors. When we replied 'yes,' he wanted you to have a great experience on him. Should I summon the bellhop to move you?"

"I don't think.."

"YES," Tina interjected. "Let's go. Hey, if a rich guy wants to put us in an expensive room, I say we go for it."

Despite my reservations, I gave into Tina again. As we headed up the elevator, I wondered. It made no sense, but it seemed like the man was on the level. Maybe he was a philanthropist who randomly picked people for a free gift.

As we turned the key to our new room, we opened the door and gasped. The apartment suite was huge, with a sprawling panoramic view of the city. As we stepped onto the lush carpet, we were greeted with a table with golden plates filled with lobster, caviar, truffles, veal dishes, and decadent chocolate desserts. There were three bedrooms with king-sized beds. The bathrooms had jacuzzis and marble floors, and tubs. The furniture was exquisite yet comfortable. The walls were adorned by Van Gogh, Matisse, and Picasso. For about thirty minutes, we explored our new quarters, overwhelmed by its opulence.

"Okay, it's settled," Tina spoke. "We're staying here."

"I'm not sure about this," I responded. "Why would a rich and powerful man choose us to stay here among the elite? Something's not right." No sooner did I say it when the doorbell rang. I looked through the peephole and felt my spine tingle at seeing the man we saw in the restaurant. "It's him," I said with a strained voice.

"Well, let him in," Tina urged.

"Nina, what do you think?" I asked.

"Well," she started, "I'll go along with whatever you two decide." Typical Nina, I groaned to myself. Always agreeable.

As we opened the door, we stood face-to-face with the mysterious man. He was tall and striking in appearance. His face was chiseled, topped by dark short but thick hair. He appeared supremely self-confident. When he spoke, his voice was as smooth as his dark silk suit.

"Hello, ladies," he crooned. "I don't believe we formally met. My name is David Martin. May I come in?" We nervously stepped aside as he gracefully strode into the room, inviting us to sit in the living area. "I just stopped by to introduce myself and tell you I'm honored to have you as my guests in the apartment penthouse. I hope you are all comfortable, and please let me know if there is anything you need."

After we stated our names and where we were from, I felt awkward. "Um...Mr. Martin," I said, "would you tell us why you brought us up here? Like, what's the catch? Do you always give gifts to random strangers?"

"There is no catch," he replied. "You may use this room for the remainder of the weekend as my guests. I don't consider you strangers. I saw you simply as friends I hadn't met yet."