Chapter 10: Phone Sex

Maria had agreed that we wouldn't see one another again until the team got back to Baltimore several days later. But that wasn't going to keep her from calling me on the telephone.

Sunday night, when we had just arrived in Minneapolis, I got a call in the hotel room from, according to the desk clerk, "Charlize Jones."

It was Maria.

"Charlize Jones?" I asked.

"Half Charlize Theron, half Catherine Zeta Jones," Maria

explained.

"How many women do you know named "Charlize?" I asked her.

"Wait a few years," she said, "their number will go up. There are probably millions of five-year-olds already."

I wasn't much for telephone conversations. Not even romantic ones.

Maria was, though.

"What are you wearing?" she asked, a smile in her voice.

"What am I wearing? --Is this an obscene phone call?"

"Could be," she said. "You want to know what I'm wearing?"

"I know you're going to tell me," I said.

"I'm wearing a blue polka-dot dress with a white collar," she said. "And white shoes, with ankle straps."

"Oh. OK." I had expected her to tell me she was wearing Chanel Number 5, or perhaps some other, updated variation on the old Marilyn Monroe tease-line.

"But -- you're not wearing any underwear, right?" I said.

"What? Well, of course I'm wearing underwear!"

"Oh. So -- why did you bring this up?" I asked.

"I didn't bring it up. I asked you what you were wearing," she said. "But you never did tell me."

"OK. I'm wearing jeans, a short-sleeved, 100% cotton pullover shirt, and, let's see -- gray socks and Nikes."

"Ohhhh," Maria said. "That sounds so sexy!"

"Are you high?" I said.

"Am I high? Like on drugs? Of course not!"

"Well, you sound a little loopy."

"I called you so we could talk dirty," she said in a kittenish voice.

"And you're doing a helluva job," I said. "Seldom have I participated in such an arousing conversation!"

"I really am wearing underwear," she said.

"Terrific. I believe you. What a turn-on!"

"But I've pulled over to the side," Maria said.

"You've -- pulled over -- your underwear?"

"No! No, silly! The car! I pulled over to the side of the road. Oh. I didn't tell you, I'm on my cell, in the car. I've been down to Bowie to see my Mom. I'm heading back home, but I wanted to call, before it got too late. What time is it there?"

"It's 9:45, Central Daylight Time," I said.

"Oh, good!

"Maybe you shouldn't be sitting alone there, in the car. Maybe you ought to head on home, and then call me," I said.

"Oh, I'm not alone in the car," Maria said. "I've got -- uhh -- Chuck here with me."

"Chuck."

"Yeah. From the University? Chuck's a varsity swimmer. Great body! Sleek! And those Speedos! Hmmm! Memorable!"

I wasn't concerned about the fictitious "Chuck". I was concerned, a little, though, for Maria's mental stability.

Who ever heard of a phone-sex threesome?

Maybe there was a generation gap, after all.

"OK," I said into the phone. "What's ol' Chuck doing, exactly?" I was expecting a graphic account of his imaginary assault on my new girlfriend's virtue.

"He's doing all the things that you wouldn't do, because you're such an old-fashioned, nerdy-boy. You want to court me! Chuckie, here, wants to get it on! Chuck wants to penetrate all my orifices -- repeatedly -- until I scream for mercy! He wants to satisfy me!"

"Sounds really hot," I agreed. "But you ought to call your Mom, first, see if she likes Chuck as much as she does me. --I'll bet she doesn't."

"Chuck's gone," Maria said abruptly, evidently tiring of the ruse.