And despite the fact that she’d traveled the world a hundred times over, I knew that I was like no one she’d known. She must’ve gotten that idea too, why else would she fly 2000 miles to have dinner with a virtual stranger? The next thing I knew, I was walking past the guest services desk at the Ritz-Carlton, stepping onto an elevator en route to the suite she’d said she’d be in on the fourth floor. I had a bouquet of dark purple tulips clenched in my fist, not thinking of how very cliché it might be to her – getting flowers. But now, here in front of the door, I was flooded with a definite feeling of awkwardness. What the hell am I doing? Mainly I was thinking this, because I’m just not into women. But I still harbored a core belief, or maybe just a fantasy, that she was probably enough of a man for me, even when she’d worn those Versace gowns on the Golden Globes. She was waiting. I felt her right on the other side of the thick door, even though she waited two minutes after I. The camera angle seemed odd. All I could see was her hips as she stepped back from the screen. Turning away from the camera I heard tinny voices as she addressed someone in the laundry room."All finished?" she asked. A man's voice replied in a low voice, which echoed too much to understand."How much do I owe you?" she asked.I saw her place our checkbook on the counter in front of the laptop, open it and then lean forward, close to the camera as she begin to write. When she was done, she looked right at the camera and smiled, winking at me. As she turned back to the laundry room I saw the legs of the man she was talking to enter the screen as she stepped closer to her. He wore blue mechanic's pants and was carrying what looked like a clipboard."Here you go," she said, handing him the check.The man reached forward and took the check, placing it on his clipboard. He bent over slightly as he started to write on the clipboard under the check."So," I heard my girlfriends voice ask as she.
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