The Summer of '93

Forming an aquaintance

Before long, Mum hollered, "Megan post and it's for you!"

Excitedly I ran for my next welcome installment of Dionisis. I enjoyed how the familiarity grew. I poured over the inky deutsche postmark and the alien stamps, punctuating its place on the now familiar white envelopes and blue Dionisis font. Dionisis sent me cartoons, and photos (He was clearly keen on photography and so was I.) I got my first Kodak camera at ten years old for my birthday. I remembered my Father warning, "Now remember Meggy, camera film is expensive and fragile. Don't open the back, be careful not to overwind the film and don't waste it." I filled it full of being at home with my family and animals. It was turned into my Dad's favourite medium, slides. I had a little eye piece to slot them into and magnify them. Their orange and white box that contained them was cherished. Soon after more so as our beloved family dog, Ching died and was preserved. 

I looked forward to receiving and drinking in the stories that he shared freely about himself. I imagined him sat at a desk thinking about what to share and images of my curly spirals and dress clad curves in his mind's eye.

Dionisis shared with me in his next letter that he had moved to Germany to live with his Aunt, whilst he studied obsessively. His younger brother Giannis had joined them, also to study. Dionisis had moved out and now was flat sharing in Heidelberg. He never said but I think his Aunt was controlling and disapproved of him having some social life, so for that reason Dionisis had chosen to live an easy commute from the University instead, and in a student house. However it was clear the house was an expensive luxury.

"There's a letter for you!" Mum teased. I rushed down to get it.
I read with glee "I am inviting you to come and stay with me in Heidelberg. There will be the space for you to have your own room if you come in early March." He invited me to visit him in Heidelberg! Overthinking head on, 'but you hardly know him.' Did I need to think it over? My heart replied No! The flight was to be booked. My heart lept with uncontrollable excitement.

One thing crossed my mind. 'Do I send him a Valentine card?' I made a decision not to. After all I didn't really know if my attraction for him was returned. We weren't dating. Part of me thought it was a clear way for me to tell him how I felt but now that he'd invited me, I didn't want him to feel awkward. 

It was the following Spring of 1993.

I had been given ugliest and boxiest Company car as I was the newest member of staff to join the IT trainers at my Company. It was one of two Yugo Sanas. When someone said Company Car to me it evoked an image of something striking, plush, carrying prestige. My Company car was an uncomfortable drive with no performance, the sun roof leaked and the gearstick felt like it was manouvered through treacly tar. I did get the opportunity to share the driving of the Sales Director's Vauxhall Carlton when I did pre-sales demonstrations. The Carlton was opulent luxury in comparison, with its 1.8 engine and electric side mirrors. It felt enormous. It was the epitome of a luxury treasure. Mine felt like it carried the style and finesse of a tonka toy.

We had some real characters at work and most of them were in Sales. The Sales team were located on the floor above me. We had three salespeople, all men. Robert was in his thirties, he had a 'look at me' prescence about him and he worked out. Most of the time he carried an air of a peacock strutting along the corridors. Having had a role in the navy, he'd seen a lot of the world and knew how to suck the marrow out of life. There was no doubt that he belonged in the role he did. My eyes were always drawn involuntarily to the dimple just below his bottom lip when he talked. He was drawn like a comic character. Yet surprisingly Robert was very camp in his mannerisms and conversation. However he liked to cultivate a reputation of being anything but. It was a fact that Robert was always impeccably dressed in a suit that matched his hair colour. He kept his curly topped cropped hair regularly trimmed and he always smelt like a trip passed the perfume counter in any large department store.

Having just returned from an adventure in Thailand and Bangkok, Robert liked to make my hair curl beyond its current wave, with his avant-garde stories and invariably he was characteristically vulgar too. He orchestrated surprise by acting outrageously and today was no different. Robert was showing me photographs of tits and transgender bodies. One could tell that they were immediately, but he told me I was the only one he'd shown them to who could distinguish. It as clear that these people liked to parade their supermodel bodies after investing in surgery to sculpt them. Their bodies were too perfect. I felt I had an unhealthy curiosity to ask about the subject more and Robert would have quite gladly enlightened me. But I thought it best to stop there. He needed no further encouragement.

"So I picked up this girl in one of the bars where the drinks were so cheap. I took her back to the hotel for some rest and recreation. As we got down to the task in hand, it was very apparent very quickly, that she was carrying more anatomy than the average woman I've come across!"

He let out a spontaneous deep and volumous belly laugh. His shoulders shook when he laughed, it was such a physical experience for him.

"I made a swift exit, that's for sure! Anyway Meg enough of that, when are you going to take a photocopy of those beautiful tits of yours!"

"That's my queue for a sharp exit!" I laughed. I rolled my eyes as this was a familiar line from him and I went back to my desk.