A Perfect Sexual Match
A Perfect Sexual Match
By the time I was twenty years of age, I really wanted desperately to become a Broadway actress, but, instead, like a lot of other girls, I became a fulltime waitress and worked the tourist tables at Emilio's down in the Village.
Then I got to be lucky and was living with a nice guy, a good-looking young actor name Ronald McKay, and he and I had been acting in the theatre since going to high school, you know, doing scenes, making the rounds, reading for parts we never got.
We often stayed up all night reading for off-Broadway plays never produced, and we sent out pictures, or we tried to call would-be agents, or we'd just spend the day talking with other actors and generally being with people who were involved in getting our names spread around.
Going to acting classes and sending out my resume and spending carfare making my rounds every morning, I finally got a bit part in an independent movie being filmed in 16mm by a young woman at NYU's film school, and this was a very small part, and from the money I earned I had to work at waitressing only part-time.
It was during this period in Emilio's terrace cafe that I eventually met Richard, whom the other waitresses called 'the light of my life'.
I used to walk from Ronald's and my tiny apartment everyday from the lower Eastside, and once at work, I have a nice section in the Cafe out on the front terrace, which was Sixth Avenue then, and often I would see this very nice older man alone and drinking rum and coke, maybe just looking around at the street, or maybe sometimes over at us, sometimes at me.
You could certainly say that Richard was older than I was, say in his fifties, which definitely was not my style, because I was only twenty, and although my few girl friends always told me that I had a great figure, a curvy body, with gorgeous full breasts and nice long legs under my jeans, I never was at a loss attracting men.
But, in this case, I found out that one just didn't show off one's qualities to this man, this Richard, but often I would smile at him, and he would return it.
He had a nice face and he was quite strong, had great, wonderful eyes and a full head of hair which he kept nicely trimmed.
I thought of myself then as being more than just cute. I had this youthful and marvelous body, and I had a most pleasant face, a very nice complexion, kissable lips, and my eyes were a shade of blue with yellow specks.