The Pendant

Everything in my hotel room was the picture of a tornado that had just passed and laid to waste a non-smoking room with a view of the Luxor hotel and Las Vegas Blvd. below. Oh, how I wish I could tell you it was passionate love making, but there was no after-the-fact smell, and the hanging question of whether this meant something or was it all just good fun was never asked. Writhing on the floor, with my head throbbing, and focusing with eyes learning how to see again, I can only stare at a broken necklace strap that once held a glass owl pendant, relaxing on plush executive carpet, whose every strand seemed to massage all its curves.

It was the first thing I noticed about her, right before I moved one stool to the left of me, but one stool away from her at the hotel bar. Sitting right next to her would have seemed too desperate and forward, and I am anything but that. I remarked how it almost looked like some elegant chocolate candy with caramel swirled in. From that distance, I already knew she was beautiful, but really, that’s not why I liked her.

“I make these…you know, mostly for fun, but it’s a great side business,” she said. “I’m just recovering from all the fun and excitement at the glass-blowing seminar down the hall…I mean there’s 2 more days and I’m already here. ”

She blew away her bangs in exhaustion, after which I told her it was Day 2 at the semi-annual Pulp and Paper Trade show, where people like me discuss the future of printing paper in the digital age and the challenges of shipping mass quantities 20 lb. bond paper vs 24 lb. while reducing our carbon footprint. I admired the effort she made to maintain some attention to my riveting lifestyle, but I knew I was in when she replied with even more useless facts:

“Where I’m from there’s a lot of barn owls. Not a lot of barns though. But a lot of owls. It’s like Sulphurdale, Utah’s state bird, if we were a State that is, but it’s just a town…or a blip you pass by on the way to Salt Lake…and you know what? Owls don’t even really hoot…”

I didn’t know I could flirt and feign authentic shock at the same time. I guess I’ve gotten better at this.

“…they kinda shrieked like this… wahhhhheeeeshh...” She sounded just like one of the creatures from Alien or was it Aliens? I admit it...I wasn't ready for that one, but who the hell does owl impersonations after 5 minutes at a bar? “And you definitely know it’s mating season in Sulphurdale when you hear this purring in the air....purrrrrr...purrrrrr.” Her head cocked to the left, slowly rotating to the right, her lips vibrated and sent out a call I couldn't refuse.

The American frat boy that I pretend to be was repeating those sounds back as we took the elevator to the 7th floor, making a stumbling right to Room 714. With my shoulder against the door, and my hand slightly shivering, I feverishly slipped the plastic key in the hole, which took a few tries. But finally the rectangular light turned green, immediately followed by that beeping sound of what should have announced victory. I brushed aside her hair and grabbed the leather strap holding the glass fairy tale she had spun all evening…right before I passed out on the floor.

She really wasn’t a glass blower, like she knew I really wasn’t a paper salesman, and that I could care less about the ethics of selling environmentally conscious paper that really wasn't 100% recycled. Two Santoris and a Vodka tonic couldn't have done this to me...in Vladivostok, this was like drinking lemonade.

Those ridiculous barn owl impressions. The purring. It was all magnificent.

If I do survive this, I have to go to Sulphurdale, Utah and see how good she really was.