It was a bad day. When I opened my eyes the white sand glared into my hotel room and told me it was late afternoon. I laid in bed, for I don't know how long all I knew was that I had cramp in my stomach, and more or less it felt like hell. Ok, maybe that was a bit cliché, maybe saying, 'It felt like Charles Manson took a machete to my stomach, turned it into ground beef. Took some seasoned salt and made a hamburger to eat'� maybe that would've been a better description. But it wasn't, it only felt like Hell. Even if Manson had done that, knowing my luck, I would be alive after the shellacking and would say, 'What no fries?'� Oh yea, the cramp in foot didn't help much either.

I was awake, but didn't want to move. I remember waking up the clock said two something or other. I don't know if I was wake-walking or sleeping. But the phone rang.

The squeaker box said, 'Hello Mr. Dumas, this is your seven p.m. wake-up call.'�

'A wake-up call. At seven p.m.,'� I said. 'You do understand that 'wake-up' calls usually involve being woken up in the morning right?'�

'Yes, sir I do.'� His S's sound like a moth was in my ear crying for help. 'And we tried to reason with you. But you were very adamant about being woken up at seven p.m. not seven a.m.'�

'What time did I make order?'�

'Around two in the morning.'�

'Was I drunk?'�

'Very much so,'� he said with a chuckle. 'It seemed like you had quite a party, plenty of networking I suppose.'�

'Really,'� I wondered. 'Did she sound hot?'�

'Very much so.'� Then there was silence. 'You don't remember her do you?'� I swore I heard two mice duking it out for a piece cheese in the kitchen. I sighed into the phone. 'Happens all the time sir, it's actually quite normal around these parts. Perhaps you might meet her again tonight.'� I hit my forehead with a butt end of the phone. Repeatedly. I couldn't take it anymore and I just hung up. Yet another had slipped through my fingers.

I wanted to lay there the rest of the night, maybe fall back to sleep and just wait for the morning. The cramp in my foot wouldn't let me though. I got up tried to walk it off and was unsuccessful. I looked to the bathroom and I found towels, complimentary soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

When in the shower I turned on the water. The cold hit me like it does when someone flushes the toilet. I shocked to say the least. My nipples were hard, my blood was rushing and not to my brain, mind you. I think its best to just say I finished my shower, shaved. Not down there, get your mind out of the gutter. I save that job for Tuesdays. I really didn't feel like dressing up, just some jeans, a white T and an opened black dress shirt. I splashed on some Cool Water cologne. And out I went.

Ok let's face facts, I was strutting down the hallway to the elevator. Think of a mix of John Travola in Saturday Night Fever and add in a wave with his right arm like he's trying to air out a fart. Every guy does it. When he's alone, confident, and knows no one is paying attention.

Except she was. She saw me, making a fool of myself. I still don't know how it happened, but one foot hit other's heel but I caught myself. I didn't fall. I merely tripped. Of course I was hoping she didn't notice. But I know she did when she shied her look away from me and I couldn't look at her anymore.

No chance in hell, Dumas.

You only have one time to make a first impression. She was waiting for the elevator when I was half way through the hallway when I was next to her she was still waiting. I barely looked at her. I tried looking away, acting like she wasn't there. A few minutes more then I'm out of her life and she's out of mine. I couldn't wait for the elevator. I went for the stairs. Just as I took my third step, the elevator door opened.

'Are you coming?'� her voice sounded like strawberries, sweet and tender.

I made a forced spin on my foot, for some reason I must've thought I was Fred Astaire. You can only guess what happened when I finished spinning. That's right; I tripped but this time a lot worse. She giggled and looked away. And I stopped pretending. The doors closed and just my luck, the elevator is paneled in copper with a glass-like shine. No matter where I looked I saw her. I felt like I was going insane. I just wanted this ride to be over with. It was in the elevator though that I looked at her reflection. She wore her red dress and high heels with dignity. She had the grace and beauty of Audrey Hepburn. She knew how to stand. She knew what she had and how to work it. A tilt in her in hips and her hands laid upon them. She was classy, not slutty. I wanted out of the elevator. But when I did finally notice her, I didn't.

I remember thinking, Just say hi stupid. Just'� say'� hi'� I tried once, and I coughed. Cleared my throat and tried again but the elevator door rang. A teenage couple came in. They were talking about how they forgot what floor they were on.

'We're on the sixth floor.'�

The elevator bell rang.

'I've could've sworn we were on the seventh.'�

They got out of the elevator and the door started to close, 'Maybe we're on the eighth floor,'� and the door closed.

The elevator continued down, five. You really don't have that much time, four. All you have to do is say hi, three. Strike up a conversation retard, two. This is your last chance, ding. She walked out. I couldn't even say anything. I was the cowardly lion. I looked at her walk away. She turned a corner at the reception desk. I waited a few minutes. Then I walked to the desk.

'The woman,'� I asked the clerk behind the desk, 'in the red dress. What's her name?'�

I was received by a dumbfounded look. 'I have no idea who you're talking about sir.'�

I merely left and continued on my way to the light blue lighted bar. If the night started bad, may as well make the next morning bad right. I walked into the bar.

I took my usual seat for the week second stool from the right.

'Usual Mac?'� the bartender said. He continued to dry off recently washed mugs and shot glasses. His drying towel was so worn out I was wondering if he was going to use his coat of fur on his arm to finish polishing them off.

'I think, I'll start off differently tonight Joe, Scotch.'� I turned around to see the crowd that rolled in that night. Nothing much, few blondes, full figured tourist. They were the type where if they were going to San Diego didn't matter where they were going they're wearing tropical color bikinis and short shorts. They definitely felt like they would be pleased for a meal at McDonalds and 40oz of Mickey's. Heard the thunk of the glass as Joe put the drink next to me. I flipped around, 'How much?'�

'Eight bucks,'� he said still drying off mugs. I fetched a twenty out of my wallet reached for drink. I took a slip the sting woke up my tongue. I drank more and I felt it burn down my throat. It felt like my salvation, it felt like home. Joe came back and put the change next to my Guinness paper coaster. I picked out the two dollars. Joe knew the rest was his.

People remember things like that, a few nights before I started him with a hundred percent tip. Through the night he mysteriously forgot to place more than a few of the drinks on my tab. I liked Joe, seemed like a man's man. Big as a house, burly as bear and gave me my liquor. I confided in him a few nights ago, not many times a guy like me gets to talk out his feelings with people. Some guys have their friends from fifteen, twenty years back. All girls have their girlfriends. Me? Well guys like me only have bartenders. I've always told people I pay for good service. So long as someone is willing to listen to me, I'll take care of them.

With how my evening started I knew tonight was going to be a slow night for me. I made myself comfortable on the stool and watched the Dodgers vs. Angels game on the screen over the bar.

'Who you likin' Mac?'� Joe said with a glee in his voice.

'Dodgers, I always root for the hometown.'�

'I hear they're thirteen games back.'�

'Bah,'� I grunted, 'I don't pay any mind to races and such. All I ask for when I see them play is for them to enjoy the game. If they're enjoying the game then I'm enjoying the game.'�

'Guys like you are far and few between,'� Joe chuckled. 'Last night we had to break apart a fight between a couple of Red Sox and Yankee fans.'�

'For guys like them,'� I said, 'it's not a game. It's a religion. When games become a religion it takes away it. It's not about having fun just to have fun. It's about 'You guys better win or else I'll kill you and your whole family.' '�

Joe was the kind of guy that could get things done. He'd wave his hand and somehow the magical pixies in the back knew what he wanted. 'You up for having dinner here tonight?'�

The question took me by surprise, 'Ugh'� sure, ok.'� He walked to the other end of the bar and called over one of his waitresses then whispered into her ear. He came back and put his elbow on his counter and watched the game with me. I was slightly confused, and asked him if I should move to a table or booth?

'Nah,'� he said, 'if Mr. Bigshot has a problem with it he can bring it up with me. He thinks he runs this place, within this bar I run it any way I want.'�

About ten to twenty minutes later the waitress comes back with two plates. Joe grabs his and puts on the counter and gives a nod and wink to the waitress. She puts the plate in front me and makes sure to brush her breasts against my arm. 'Hi, I'm Amy,'� she said pleasantly there wasn't the hint that her gesture was forced.

'Mac. Mac Dumas,'� I said as I shook her hand, 'And thanks.'�

'You know,'� she said, 'I get off in a few hours maybe you want to.'�

I slightly laughed, 'Listen, I really don't mean to offend, thanks but, no thanks. I'm really not in the best of moods tonight and would be terrible company. Perhaps tomorrow?'�

'You sure?'� I took a deep breath and realized what I was going to pass up. She was easily one of the prettiest waitresses Joe had. Her red hair stretched to the middle of her back. Her eyes as green as a baseball field on opening day, they nearly kept me entranced. She had a wide smile, one that accented her cheekbones even more. Her lips looked soft and voluptuous when still. But when she smiled her top lip thinned slightly making for a much better smile. Her dark eye shadow and rose-colored lip stick called out to me. Her hour glass figure was one that could not be missed three miles away. She put her left hand on her hip between her tiny black T and black pants and her finger to lip, tilted her heard and asked again, 'Are you sure?'�

'I'm sure,'� I felt like I was going to cry.

'Tomorrow then?'�

'Tomorrow.'� She rubbed her fingers through my hair, slightly pulled and she walked away back to her job. 'Joe, I appreciate what you're doing, but please not tonight.'�

'Do what?'� he said with a stone cold tone. 'Amy? Hey man she wondered who you were from a few nights ago. She was just wondering if you were spoken for. Whatever she was doing she was on her.'� I wanted to grab the knife on the bar and stab it through my wrist. Instead all I did was slam my head against the bar, three, five, maybe thirty times.

Joe and I watched the rest of the ballgame eating our dinners: Porterhouse steaks, mash potatoes with potato skins, and a vegetable medley. After a few bites, he handed me a mug of Newcastle. The bitterness of the beer made the whole meal enjoyable. If only Joe and I were gay, we would've made the perfect couple.

Unfortunately, neither of was us were. During our meal he showed me a picture of his wife, Big Bertie, he called her. Bartenders named Joe have wives or girlfriends nick-named Big something. Her face looked like a semi-truck ran over her a few times tipped over then caught on fire. 'The pretty ones always killed me where it hurts,'� he told me. 'But Bertie, no matter how much I may have fucked up. She's always there.'�

'Seems like she has great personality,'� I said non-patronizing.

'I knows, she ain't much to look at. But the quality of love she has. Woowee, I'd never sell that to the devil for all the universe.'�

'Lucky you.'� What else could I say that I was jealous? That I wished I had his life?

'I will say this too, she's a monster in bed. I mean I can't walk straight the next day.'�

'Joe. Stop. Please.'�

'I mean alls I have to do is turn off the light.'�

'Joe,'� I said glaring at him.

'See this one she brought a chocolate cake and smashed it between us. When everything was said and done, most of the cake somehow ended up on the ceiling.'�

I looked at my food, dropped my knife and fork. Said, 'I think I'm done,'� and pushed the plate away from me.

A few minutes later Amy came by spun one of her fingers through my hair. 'All done?'� her smile took precedence in the room. I only nodded my head, trying my hardest not to notice her eyes again. I stayed concentrated on the green glass on the screen. 'Anything else I can get you?'�

'I'm fine, thanks.'�

'Tomorrow, then?'� I chuckled. Tilted my stare gave her half a smile and nodded once.

She grabbed my plate and Joe handed her his. I stared at her as walked away, her hair was long enough to look like a waterfall with every step she took. 'She's not one of those types that waits forever you know,'� I heard Joe say. 'She's a good girl, I knows these things. Hell, if I didn't have Bertie in my life. I woulda taken that date with her.'�

'If today wasn't today, I would've to.'� I finished off my beer in a few big swigs and handed the mug back to Joe. 'What do I owe you Joe?'�

He laughed and said, 'Nothing. What's a few drinks and a meal between friends?'� I started to spin out of the stool when I heard, 'But uh, lady down the way wants to buy you a drink.'� I really wondered if something was wrong with Joe's short-term memory, or if he was really trying to cheer me up. 'I really think you should look.'�

I turned around and saw the girl from the elevator staring at me. Joe looked at her almost like he recognized her, but couldn't quite place her. She had her elbows on the bar and resting her chin on her wrist. Her dark hair covered half her face and she smiled. When she waved only her ring and pinky finger waved. I started walking towards her and before I knew it I tripped on one of the bar stools. I heard Joe chuckle and saw him turn away. I saw the woman in red blush also. I regained my composure and walked out of the bar. 'I'll catch you tomorrow Joe.'�

I walked outside into the balcony, and noticed only half the moon was out. Funny, I thought, that night I felt like only half a man I normally am and the moon is only half of what it is. It felt like only it and Joe were my friends. The cool breeze calmed my nerves as I stood at the edge against the railing. I looked out in the candle lights of the San Diego skyline it seemed like more star's shined on the asphalt black than in space. I wondered if a star existed for everyone. I wondered where mine was, lonely, off alone somewhere in the darkness. I wondered where Joe's was, would it be twice as big as anyone else, would it be a combination of two stars? Would Amy's be bright red or a simple blue like the woman I don't remember? I found a tinkling little star just over the horizon. I wondered if that was the woman in red, mysterious, independent and exquisite. I felt like reaching my hand out for it. I wanted the star burn to scar me. At least that way she would always be with me. I heard the clacking of high heels behind me. I brought my hand back down and pretended as if no one saw me.

'Mind if I join you?'� she said.

'I won't deny myself the pleasure of your company. Maybe if I stand still I won't have to worry about tripping again.'� She laughed. She had the kind of laugh when her whole body shook.

'What are you doing out here?'� I asked.

'Was just wondering why you haven't said anything to me.'� I stood silent. 'What is it and I not cute enough for you? Am I too short? Too skinny?'�

'It's none of that,'� I stuttered, 'It's just'�'�

'Just what,'� said asked turning my shoulder forcing me to stare into her fire breathing eyes.

'I'm afraid,'� I said turning back to the sky line.

'Afraid? Of what? Of me?'�

'That you maybe one of the great ones. Very few people have made me stumble on myself.'� Perhaps Joe was only trying to cheer me up. 'You've done to me what some wish to do. Just in the few brief moments I wanted to ask you marry me, I wanted to know everything about you. I wanted to know if your love was as sweet as the strawberries in your voice. I wanted you make me feel like I was somebody.'� Deep inside I was hoping she would just turn and walk away. For a guy to say the things I had said was the worst thing to say within the first five minutes of meeting anyone. I was hoping to scare her away. But she didn't move. She stood still. She wrapped her arms around mine.

'I think you're the one I've been waiting for.'� I was confused by her answer. But I didn't care she felt as soft as a cotton teddy bear and smooth as silk. I didn't want to ruin the moment with words, she stayed wrapped around my arm and we stared into the skyline.

Before we knew it was five a.m. and the sky started to show signs of turning orange. I walked her to room, 3327. I wanted to kiss her. Just one kiss to remember the night, there was nothing like the first kiss. The moment when all around you doesn't matter, when all sounds become white noise, when the ground disappears and you feel like you're floating in mid-air. I wanted something, maybe just a peck. I held her chin on the bridge of my finger I lightly rubbed my thumb on her chin and tilted her head up. I took my chance and I was met by her cold fingers, 'No need to rush.'�

'Can I at least have your name?'�

'Kate.'�

She waited and smiled at me again. I nervously smiled back and started walking down the hall to the elevator. I told myself not to look back. When I finally did she was gone.

I went into my hotel room smiling like a five-year-old on Christmas Day. Perhaps, I had finally found what Joe had'the woman that I wouldn't sell to the devil for the universe. I decide it might be best for me to take a cold shower and I did. While I was toweling off I heard a knock at my door. I called out that I would be there in a second. I answered the door and no one was there. I looked down. There was a framed article with a yellow post-it, it read: Careful with the company you keep 'Joe

The article was about a woman by the name of Lottie A. Bernard. Who had stayed in the hotel during November of 1892. She was told to have been under stress possibly pregnant and more than likely ill. Reports state she had been awaiting her 'brother'� described as a doctor. He had never shown up. Five days after checking into the hotel she was found dead. Gunshot to the head, the county coroner had ruled her death a suicide. Later it was realized Bernard had brought no personal belongings. It was after police sought public help did they learn Lottie A. Bernard was only an alias. Her real name was Kate Morgan.

I dropped the frame and raced down to her room. I knocked on the door and no answer. There was no sound of rummaging coming from the room. I banged on the door the people in the neighboring rooms clamored outside to see what I was doing. They insisted that no one was in the room. Soon after the hotel manager came to see about the noise disturbance I had been creating. I told him there was a woman in the room. I had dropped her off here no less than thirty minutes ago.

He was extremely adamant the room was entirely empty. No one had rented out the room since the mid 80's. He opened the door and I rushed inside. I was greeted by cold wind blowing through a small crack in the window. The room was littered in storage brown boxes. The darkness reminded me of the lonely star I thought was me earlier in the night. I felt numb, I felt like I had all the wind knocked out of me. I wanted to fall to my knees and cry, but I didn't. I walked out of the hotel room and apologized to everyone for disturbing their sleep. I walked slowly to my hotel room like a beaten alpha wolf looking for a new pack.

I turned on my laptop and started writing this letter. I felt it necessary to explain my actions for tonight. I didn't want my parents, brothers, sister and especially Joe to feel they were responsible. Joe was right, all the pretty ones kill you where it hurts. Kate isn't going to be given that chance, I'm chasing after her. I hope when I land she will be waiting for me. I'm sorry for what I must put my loved ones and friends through.

Goodbye.

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