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Sparkle and Shine (now with arrows to help you find stuff)

Hi there. (Said in my best James Bond voice)

Fancy a bit of meaningless fantasy? In the mood for a smidgen of magic with just a hint of romance for added spice? How about a bit of adventure with a touch of playful flirting? Featuring your's truly? If so...

go have yourself a nice relaxing hot bubble bath...

soak away all your worries...

then slip into something naughty...

and allow yourself to be seduced...

over

and over

and over again.

These would be the helpful arrows

Please allow them to direct you as to where to go next

Obey the arrows at all times

Please don't wander off

Have a nice day

Sorry Bruce Willis. Only consenting adult females allowed beyond this point.

I've been thinking about you.

Not you Bruce. Go on. Git. You're ruining the mood.

I've been thinking about you.

Yes you.

I've been thinking about the first time we met. Do you remember?

(I know I've posted other me-and-you first meeting stories before but in this version you're new and improved. Humour me okay)

We met online. Ring a bell? I'm not sure now who contacted who first. If I recall, back then you were into Jello, ballroom dancing, and stalking...no wait...that was me. I was the stalker, you were the stalkee. Yes that's right. Weren't you into reading, old movies and thunderstorms? Ummm nope. That was me too. Road trips, sandy beaches and candlelight? Oops. Me again. Christmas, fireflies and intimate moments? Unh unh. Still me.

Hmmm. Seems my memories of you from our first meeting are a bit fuzzy. You do remember being part of that first meeting memory though don't you? I'd hate to find out I was the only one there. This me-and-you first meeting story will be much more fun if I knew it involved the two of us. Unfortunately this kind of thing can sometimes happen when people meet online. The spotlight can focus on one person while completely ignoring the other. (I think it's got something to do with pixels or Bill Gates) How about we go for a whole new set of me-and-you first meeting memories then? This time the spotlight's gonna be on you lady. I want you to feel free to sparkle and shine. And instead of first meeting online, what if we first met in real life? Sound like fun?

This then is the story of how we first met...the way it should have happened.

Sparkle and Shine

We first met in Paris...the City of Lights...on one of those romantic nighttime Seine river cruises. (Normally it's couples that go on the nighttime Seine river cruises but I thought it would be a tad awkward if we were both with somebody else when we first met, so in this story I'll have us on that river cruise unescorted) I quickly made my way to the promenade deck at the stern of the riverboat, where couples were sitting at intimate little tables under the stars, enjoying the twinkling lights reflecting on the water, the nighttime Paris sights and each other's company. I was eager to see for myself if you were half as lovely in person as you are online. (Although technically we hadn't met online or anywhere else yet so I wouldn't have known how lovely you are would I? Confused? Join the club) I approached the table where I knew you'd be. (One of the perks of being the author). You were sitting with your back to me, but I still recognized you, as the back of your head looked just as I imagined it would. You must have heard me approaching, for you looked my way and shrieked...

"Eeeek!"...

yeah, just like that, and then you quickly faced the other way.

"Gary! Eeeek!" You shrieked again. (I love that Eeeek!) "No, no, no, no, no. I don't want you to see me yet. I'm not ready." You cried, covering your face with your hands.

"Huh?" I said in bewilderment. (It's not only James Bond that's quick witted ya know)

"No, no, no, no, no." You stood up and suddenly yanked the tablecloth off the table, draping it over your head and shoulders. "Don't look at me Gary. I want to make a good first impression. I haven't had a chance to get ready yet."

"Huh?" I replied again, proving I too could be cool and composed under pressure. (Hah! Take that 007)

From under the tablecloth you began to lecture me. "I was whisked off to Paris only a couple of paragraphs ago Gary...without any warning whatsoever. You said I could sparkle and shine but I'm still wearing my old, ratty bathrobe for Heaven's sakes. My hair's a mess and I don't have a lick of make up on. I want to have at least brushed my teeth before we meet for the first time."

"Awwww fuzzy, bunny slippers." I said, pointing at your feet which weren't concealed by your tablecloth disguise. "I love those things."

"Eeeek!" You shrieked yet again as you pushed by me and ran to the other end of the boat. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeek!"

I scratched my head, watching you hurry away, the tablecloth billowing behind you, as you tried to hold it over your head. I wondered if James Bond would have handled that any differently than I just did. I figured 007 wouldn't give up so easily so I decided to give our first meeting another try, but when you saw me approaching you jumped over the side and swam to the riverbank.

I wasn't sure if that went well or not, (I'm a guy remember), so I decided just to be on the safe side, we'd scrap our Paris nighttime Seine river cruise first meeting, pretend like it never happened and try again. Agreed?

Sparkle and Shine

We first met in Rome...the City of Seven Hills...on a hot July evening. There was a refreshing summer breeze that gently licked the beads of perspiration off my exposed forearms, as I sat on the Spanish Steps, an ice cream cone in each hand, waiting for you to arrive. I had expected us to first meet five minutes ago. (Don't ask me how I knew you'd be on the Spanish Steps in Rome exactly five minutes ago. We're not supposed to even know one another yet remember. If you want realism you're in the wrong fantasy. Just play along okay) The ice cream was now beginning to run down the cones and onto my hands.

"Aaaargh!" I groaned. "Am I going to feel foolish if you don't hurry up and meet me in the next few minutes."

Another five minutes later and despite my best efforts at speed licking, there wasn't much left of the ice creams except two puddles on the steps of the Spanish Steps and a gooey, sticky mess down my hands, arms and face.

"Okay...hold on a sec. I'm not feeling very James Bondish right now." I thought to myself. "I'm feeling more sticky and dorkyish than James Bondish and I don't like all the funny looks I'm getting. Nobody looks at James Bond this way." I whined, glancing around with vanilla ice cream all over my lips, nose and chin.

"I wonder what can be keeping her?" Just then I spotted you from across the busy street. At least I think it was you under that dripping wet tablecloth.

"_________?" I was going to call out to you but suddenly realized I wasn't supposed to know your name yet, (or what you look like for that matter), so I waved and gestured wildly instead. (Who knew rewriting history could be so complicated)

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no Gary. "You called out from under your soggy tablecloth as the traffic zoomed by. "I'm nowhere near ready. I'm now soaked to the skin. I must look like a drown rat for God's sakes. I need more time. It's only been but a couple of minutes since Paris."

"How come you know my name and I'm not supposed to know your's?" I yelled back.

"Women's intuition. Oh look...a Viking." You suddenly shouted, pointing behind me.

"A Viking? Here in Rome?" I said spinning around only to discover there wasn't any Viking behind me. By the time I turned round again you and your soggy tablecloth had vanished. Only a puddle and some wet, fuzzy, bunny slipper footprints remained.

"Ingenious. Very ingenious _______. " (I wish I was supposed to know what your name is but that would be against the rules. In the meantime feel free to insert your name into the _______ spaces as you read this story, but keep it secret from me until we finally meet. If I find out before then, it will ruin everything)

Something told me that first meeting could have gone better too so I decided to scrap it and try again. Please pretend like it never happened _______.

Sparkle and Shine

We first met in Hawaii...the Aloha State...on beautiful Waikiki Beach at sunset. Warm soft sand...lazy palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze...majestic Diamond Head standing erect off in the distance...the sound of the powerful surf rhythmically pounding...pounding...pounding...pounding against the smooth, receptive shoreline...(Too suggestive? Too many poundings?)...(I'm not interested in what you think Bruce. I was asking _______ )

It was absolutely perfect. The only thing missing was you. I hurried to the secluded, small grove of palm trees where I had expected to find you. There was the hammock, chilled umbrella drinks and the bubble blowing wands I had arranged to be there, but no you. I did notice however one of the drinks was half empty, several soap bubbles floating high among the palm fronds, lots of wet, fuzzy bunny slipper footyprints about...and a lengthy note written in the sand entitled "To Gary".

"A lengthy Gary sand note?" I keenly observed. "I wonder who could have written that?"

It was from you _______! Telling me once again how it's only been a few minutes and you still haven't had a chance to get ready yet...you were still soaking wet and now covered in sand too...you regretted not being able to share beautiful Waikiki Beach with me...or getting the chance to climb to the top of majestic Diamond Head together...or having time to make a sandcastle...with tall elegant towers...and a huge wide moat...and how all the imaginary people in your sandcastle would have been able to speak French...and that Jessica would have been the middle name of the imaginary queen of your sandcastle kingdom...and that every other Thursday would have been a garbage pickup day at the castle...unless the Thursday in question fell on a holiday, in which case garbage pickup would be on the following Wednesday...blah, blah, blah.

I was sensing a pattern here _______. I began to wonder if you'd be all dolled up and ready for our first meeting in front of the Taj Mahal in Agra India in the next five minutes from now or if I'd be disappointed once again. Knowing just how ingenious you can be, I figured I had to be even more ingeniouser...igeniousest...cleverer...smarter if I was going to outwit you. This next time I couldn't allow you to slip away so easily again. This next time we will meet no matter what. (Insert evil manical laughter here)

Sparkle and Shine

We first meet in a plane...high in the sky...somewhere over the Pacific Ocean I think...while jetting towards the Taj Mahal in Agra India. This time there would be no escape for you young lady. No more excuses. We were going to meet and that's final. (Or so I hoped)

I eagerly hurried down the aisle and made my way to the back of the aircraft. It was going to be just you and me _______. Sitting side by side. No where for you to run little chickadee. We'd surely get to meet now. However once I got to my seat I was very disappointed when I found somebody would be sitting with us, a little old man...and he was sitting in the seat I had imagined I'd be sitting in. I always sit beside the window! Ignoring you, I hurriedly sat in the middle seat and immediately began suggesting to the little old man a new seating arrangement. He and you should exchange seats and I should sit next to the window. Apparently he didn't want to switch seats. He was much more interested in telling me about his cricket breeding buisness. Seems he was very proud of his crickets. Apparently geckos and tarantulas all over North America prefer his crickets because they're so big and juicy. (Eeeeeeeew. I found that disturbing on many different levels) Seeing as there was no reasoning with the cricket guy, I ignored him and turned to face you...making sure to flash you one of my adorable one dimpled smiles.

WARNING! This next bit is brutal. Please don't take it to heart. Don't worry though, things may not be as they first seem. Trust me.

You smiled at me and said, "When conjugating French verbs, it is important to use the correct sequence of tenses. In complex sentences, there is a relationship between the verb in the main clause and the verb in the subordinate clause."

"Huh?" I said in my best James Bond voice while noticing everything about you seemed totally unfamiliar. (It was almost like we've never met before)

"Using the correct sequence of tenses is just as important as conjugating the verbs correctly and using the appropriate mood."

"Huh? I again replied, my sexy, brown, bedroom eyes apparently having no effect on you whatsoever. (You didn't seem at all like the person I never met in Paris, Rome or Hawaii)

"The French infinitive translates as "to + verb," the French sometimes needs to be preceded by a preposition. This is the case with the passive infinitive, which is commonly used with indefinite and negative words."

It suddenly dawned on me how boring you were. (Ouch. Be brave little trooper. Well get through this together)

"The pluperfect is a compound verb. It is formed with the imperfect of the auxiliary verb, (either avoir or être), and the past participle of the main verb."

Okay. My James Bondish charisma obviously wasn't having any effect on you, while your French verb conjugating ability was quickly putting me to sleep. This wasn't the way I had pictured our first meeting at all.

"Parler...j' avais parlé...tu avais parlé..."

Suddenly the cricket guy seemed a lot more interesting...but he was now fast asleep.

"il avait parlé...nous avions parlé..."

After finally getting to meet you face to face, close up and without your tablecloth, I was disappointed yet again. Oh sure you were nice and even pretty, but where was that passion, that intellect, that sex appeal, that wit, that charm or that magic I had been expecting from you? (I hope that didn't sound too cruel. Continue being brave. This icky bit has gotta end sometime right?)

"vous aviez parlé...ils avaient parlé..."

"I'm sorry sir. There are no other empty seats." The flight attendant informed me when I asked about sitting somewhere else.

"Sortir...j' étais sorti(e)...tu étais sorti(e)..."

I now regretted flying no frills economy and not shelling out the extra $10 for headphones. After considering what James Bond would do in a situation like this, I decided to stick my fingers in my ears and hum.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

"il était sorti(e)...nous étions sorti(e)s..."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

"vous étiez sorti(e)(s) ...ils étaient sorti(e)s..." You apparently took no notice and continued to drone on and on.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

After fifteen more minutes of this I again signalled the flight attendant.

"I'm sorry sir but I've already told you, you can't sit in the cockpit with the pilots."

"No. That's not why I called you. How much longer till we get to India?"

"Another twelve hours sir."

"Twelve hours! How come it only takes a few minutes to fly between Rome and Hawaii?"

"You're flying no frills ecomony remember." Replied the flight attendant like I was stupid or something.

Upon hearing what the flight attendant had just told me, the person sitting directly in front of me called to the flight attendant and asked, "If I upgrade my economy ticket to first class, will that get me to India any quicker?"

"Of course ma'am. You'd be there in less than five minutes, but you'll miss the movie."

"Good. Then that's what I'd like to do. It doesn't matter about the movie. I just have to get away from that damn annoying conjugating and humming." She said as she then began to leave her seat and head towards first class at the front of the plane.

"Hang on a sec." I thought to myself. "I'm sure I've heard that voice before."

"Hang on another sec." I wasn't through thinking to myself yet. "I'm sure I've seen that soggy tablecloth and those sandy, fuzzy, wet, bunny slippers somewhere before too." (Can you see where I'm going with this?)

"Hang on a yet another sec." I said turning to my French verb conjugating seatmate. "You're not really you are you?"

"Huh?" She suddenly stopped droning on.

"I mean you're not _______. No wonder I don't find you witty, sexy or interesting. You're a fake _______. A bogus _______."

(See it wasn't you I was insulting all this time. It was her. Thanks for being such a brave little trooper)

I quickly summoned the flight attendant and also paid the ticket upgrade to first class. Time was very short as both _______ and I would be arriving in India in only a matter of minutes now, so I hurried out of economy and made my way to first class.

First class was certainly a lot nicer than no frills economy. There was more leg room, the seats were more comfy and it smelled better too. Cleverly following the trail of damp bunnyprints led me right to where you were sitting.

"Damn it. _______ is sitting in the window seat." I mumbled to myself. Not letting that deter me, I approached and asked to sit in the other seat beside you. You immediately shrieked and pulled the well travelled (and now somewhat tattered) tablecoth over your wet hair.

"Listen _______. There's no time for acting coy. We're going to be arriving in India in the next few minutes and this first meeting thingy can't go on any longer." (I had no idea it was going to go on this long) (I'll bet you didn't either)

"Do you know you have ice cream all over your face Gary?" You said as you peeked at me from under the tablecloth.

"Umm no I didn't. Is it gone now?" I said hastily wiping off my face.

"No."

"How about now?"

"No. There's still some ice cream on the end of your nose and on your eyebrows...and on your left ear."

"I said your left ear."

"That's your right ear."

"Your left ear."

"Left."

"Your other left."

"Here...let me get it."

"All gone?"

"Yes."

"Good. Can we get on with this first meeting then _______? We've only got a few fleeting minutes left now." (Can't you just feel the pent up sexual tension about to erupt as this me-and-you first meeting story finally comes to a climax?) (No?) (Maybe it's just me then)

"I don't want you seeing me like this Gary. I look a complete mess. No. Change that. I looked a complete mess in Rome. Now I look like the frickin' floor of a men's washroom after a drunken rugby team has upchucked all over it."

(I couldn't help but smile. You're adorable when you're cranky. Did you know that?)

"How about if I don't look at you?" I said whipping out a velvet sleep-EZ blindfold from out of the first class goodie bag I got when I upgraded. "Is this better?" I asked, now completely blind.

"Errr...I suppose...but you mustn't peek and you mustn't try to smell me either. The Seine isn't the cleanest river to jump into."

"Deal. We only have mere seconds now so I'll make this real quick. I wrote a song about you _______. A ballad. I'm not the world's best songwriter but I think I did a pretty good job of putting into music what type of unforgettably special lady you truly are. Would you like to hear it?" I asked while blindly fumbling for the twelve string acoustic guitar that's included in every first class goodie bag.

"Not really."

I tried not to appear hurt but I think you could sense there was something wrong, despite my blindfold, so you generously offered this explantion. "I'm not fussy when it comes to intimately personal ballads written especially for me Gary. I think I'd rather idly gaze out the window at the clouds going by if you don't mind."

"There's a bit about kittens in it. You like kittens don't you?" I said eager to sing the damn song.

"Well.......I suppose.......but only sing the bit about the kittens. I don't want to hear the other bits about me...and only if you sing it very, very, very softly. Otherwise you'll distract my cloud gazing."

It's not easy softly singing an unforttgetably special lady song, while leaving out all the unforgettably special lady bits. In the end it pretty much only sounded like me humming very, very, very softly to myself. I don't think you were overly impressed.

"Listen Gary." You said taking my sticky hands in yours and looking into my blindfold from behind your soggy tablecloth. "I know you've meant well. Don't think I don't appreciate what you've tried to do. I've gone to Paris, Rome, Hawaii and now India all within an hour, but this meeting thingy just isn't going to work...not today anyways. Do you have any idea how much riverwater a bathrobe, tablecloth and fuzzy bunny slippers can soak up? I make sloshing noises with every step I take. I don't feel like I'm sparkling or shining right now. In fact I'm feeling anything but adorable and sexy right now. Maybe we can do this me-and-you first meeting thingy again another time, but right now all I wish is for this to end.

Oh oh. I suppose I should have warned you about making a wishing this to end wish. See that kinda breaks the magic moment that keeps a story like this going.

I quickly whipped off the blindfold only to discover we had already landed in India and you had left the plane.

More oh oh's. I hope you have plenty of rupees in the pockets of that water logged bathrobe of your's _______ , otherwise you may have a bit of a problem getting back home. Luckily for me I didn't make any wishing this to end wishes so I got back home five mintues later.

Call me _______ when you get back okay? We really must do this again sometime.

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I guess this was yet another failed first meeting story gone wrong then. Sorry for the letdown.








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