Tropican phone booth

Chapter One:

Lucy Yakamoto entered a crowded nightclub and scanned the college crowd, all dressed in riot girl and retro-seventies fashion. She noticed a few couples embracing in the club's dark corners. Other artsy types sat sipping lattes. She stuck a stray strand of blonde hair back into its neat bun, wondering what her mother would say about her bleached hair. The thought made her shudder, and she considered dying her hair back to natural black before returning to Tokyo. But that would have to wait.

She thought she would just fly over to the U.S., have a bit of fun, and return to Tokyo as a mature adult, but now, she was not so sure. She lounged at a bar reading The Good Girl's Guide to Marriage wondering who came up with such nonsense. She listened to her mother's advice, "Lucy, now that you have graduated from college, it is time for you to marry a nice man." Her mother would have it no other way.

An attractive hip barista sporting a pink frock caught Lucy’s eye as she placed a jasmine ice tea in front of her. Lucy locked eyes with the barista’s light green ones and as the barista pulled away, she could smell a strawberry scent emanating from the barista’s long red hair. Lucy panicked. No, this was not something her parents would ever accept and she needed to resolve that strawberry scented problem before returning to Tokyo.

Moments later, Lucy looked up from her book just as Carlos Suave entered the club. She had seen him around the small community on several occasions, but he seemed out of place in that nightclub. Carlos' legendary reputation as a lover circulated among young women hoping to stir up some passion in their lives. But in truth, the Latino, although extremely attractive, was actually a lowly clerk with conservative views that worked at the State Capitol.

Carlos brushed past Lucy, making his way to a pay phone. When he noticed that the phone was out of order, he slammed it into its cradle. In a huff, his bullfighter frame swaggered out of the nightclub, almost against its macho will.

Lucy gazed at the smoldering Latino and wondered if he could cure her of her sexual conflict. If he drummed up passion in her without cynicism, then she might have solved her problem. However, she had to act quickly. She tossed her book into a schoolgirl satchel and raced after Carlos. She saw him enter a phone booth on the corner so she followed the legendary Olympian lover.

She pounded on the glass of the booth. Carlos dropped a couple of magazines, Playboy and Modern Groom. He shouted at Lucy, "Can't you see, I'm on the phone?"

He pulled out singles ads and he dialed a number. Lucy pounded on the glass again. He opened the door and Lucy squeezed into the booth and planted a kiss on the Latino’s willing lips. Then she whispered in his ear, telling him to do her the way she’d seen in French movies. Carlos unzipped his trousers and lifted the young Japanese woman’s skirt up. They engaged in awkward staccato sex.

The phone operator came on the line. "If you would like to make a call, hang up and…"

Carlos hung up the phone. When he climaxed, he smiled at the strange creature who suddenly appeared in his life. She pulled down her skirt and with one fell swoop yanked a pen out from her satchel. She scrawled her phone number on Carlo's sweaty wrist.

"I'm Lucy Yakamoto and you are?"

Breathless, he responded, "Carlos Suave."

Lucy quickly exited the booth, looked around and ambled back to the nightclub. As Carlos watched the unusual woman disappear down the street, he thought his search for a bride had ended.