Red Lotus

Okay, I’ll introduce you to one of my real world friends and entertain you with  a Bobito story.  Bob is a most remarkable man with an intriguing intellect.  He is an amazing artist . . . paints.  He is also a wonderful writer with a very hip style and he challenges me.  Our e-mail banter is great fun, so I fully expect you will see more Bobito stories in the future. 
 
We have an online classified here.  You can get anything from weight benches (that’s where I got mine) to baby clothes to sex.  I suffer a strange kind of “dating” ADHD.  One night I was bored and curious, so I checked out the personals section.  I had been told they were, well let’s just say, “interesting.”  There was one that just reeked of arrogance.  You know me, can’t resist a challenge.  I responded and was very haughty about it.  No pictures involved so either of us could have been anybody or anything . 
 
We corresponded in a most combative, but clever way for a time.  He referred to me as his “uber sexy 500 pound cement truck driver dipping fried chicken legs into a bucket of Ben and Jerry’s while PRETENDING to be some super hot broad with a snotty attitude.”  (Yes, I sent him Uber Sexy.)  He was almost tagged “Gold Toe” for life, but that is another story.  Instead, he became my Bobito.  Eventually, he just started calling me Imp.  It was great fun for a while, but then I got all involved with – what else – another artist. 
 
Bob had sent me a picture right at the end.  When I re-emerged into life after the romantic debacle (what was I thinking), I discovered Bob on my dating website (recognized his picture when he showed up as a match).  He is also a neighbor in a sense as he only lives in the next city north of me.  Sometimes the Fates just get right up in your face and scream at you.  Bob was someone I was supposed to know that was obvious to me. 
 
Of course, I sent him an e-mail that was very vague, but implied he should know who I was.  He had never seen a picture of me and I used the site’s e-mail (not my own), so he couldn’t possibly get any clues from that.  I immediately got a response addressed to his Imp.  He claims he easily recognized me.  He conceded that I am a super hot broad and that secretly he loved the snotty attitude.  We started e-mailing again and finally meet.  Bob is a lot of fun.  We have become friends and get together from time-to-time. 
 
We e-mail each other regularly to my complete and total delight.  One of those e-mail strings was not only a window into the reality of relationships between confirmed singles of a certain age and intellect, but also an intriguing exchange on the mysteries and wonders of life.  So here is the much edited version of those e-mails.  Eventually the complete “PG” version will post in Demure’s Journals which will then include the infamous “Spankie B” e-mail which was originally part of this thread.  For now, here’s a snippet of Bobito and Imp’s musings. 
 
Bobito wrote: 
 
Hello My Dear Imp,  
 
How’s my favorite spoiled rotten girl?  Tried to take grandma out to that creepy little Thai joint over there by you – still had a craving for that Thai eggplant dish. Anyway, the danged place is closed on Sundays (!) so ended up driving down the main drag through town towards home, and Lo and Behold – there’s the Red Lotus. 
 
Popped in there, got a nice seat in the ”Forbidden City” in a booth lined with tin foil and about an inch of dust on the wall molding. Waited on by a couple of tall, white, way-past-middle-age waitresses wearing red silk costumes. Looked through the menu and saw they had stuff like biscuits and gravy and fried chicken, etc. etc., (which was actually what I would have expected to see those particular waitresses serving on any given day!). 
 
Let’s just say I was beginning to wonder at that point. So imagine my surprise when the food came out and it was actually quite marvelous! Don’t think I would have pulled into that place in a million years if you hadn’t mentioned it… thanks for the nice surprise there. 
 
El Bobito con Carne 
 
Demure replied: 
 
Sweet Bobito, 
 
Sometimes we have to look past the red walls, foil wallpaper, cheesy lanterns, and just marinate in the wonderful, tackiness that truly is life here in the Northwest at its most unexpected and delightful.  Dear, I may be a spoiled brat and considered a ***** by some, but I will never mislead you.  I have nothing to hide and no reason for pretense.  So the Red Lotus will forever represent my promise never to bullshit you.  If I tell you its good, its going to be good.  I expect no less from you. 
 
Spoiled rotten,
Imp 
 
So Bobito answered back: 
 
Hello My Dear, 

At one point, as the story goes, good old kind, benevolent, loving, all wise and powerful YHWH put the rainbow in the sky to represent his promise to never again mass murder pretty much the entire human race. How much better the world would have been if instead he would have put up the sign of the Red Lotus and promised never to bullshit us. Now that would have been worth something. I appreciate that. 

Le Bob 
 
Demure concluded: 
 
My Dear Bobito,  
 
Aaaahhhhhh, the Red Lotus, perhaps it truly is the center of the universe and God hangs in the Lounge on Friday nights.  What better setting from which to manifest our destinies.  A balding, unshaven, old man looking more like a derelict Santa Claus than the master of all creation bellied up to the bar enjoying a blended, frothy, red drink with a little, yellow, paper umbrella in it while the future of mankind cycles down the drain.  It seems far more likely to me than most of the other scenarios being presented. 

Please do write when you have time and let’s get together soon. 
 
Hugs, kisses and nibbing at your neck,
Imp