Broken Promises Under The Influence Of Blue Agave Chapter 1

A long hard day and it seems hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. Sweat’s running down my back soaking into my tee shirt. The air conditioning in my truck probably needs freon because it is not working well in this heat. So on the drive home from work, as sometimes I do, I remembered the morning I woke up and the bed was cold next to me. It’s one of those things in your life that happens and it seems insignificant at the time, but it changes the path your life takes forever. To tell you the story I should back up and start at the beginning.

I have a best friend, and yes, she is what I call a girlfriend, not a lover, a girlfriend. Her name is Crosby. When we first met, she told me yes, she was named after Crosby, Stills, and Nash–her dad wanted a boy and after three tries for a son, Mom said “no more.” So Carly became Crosby.

Crosby and I met at a friends party. We talked all evening. I would say there was an immediate sexual attraction, but there was something deeper between us–almost like we knew each other in another life and we just found each other again. Through the next few months, Crosby and I did become best friends. We went places together like the movies and a million dinners and even two vacations that required airfare.

Crosby and I developed our man/woman relationship over a lot of time. She became my best friend in the whole world. One of the special things about Crosby is she is a great cook and I love it when she gets in the mood to cook and takes it out on me. One Saturday afternoon she called me and said she was bored and wanted tacos. Crosby said she had all the makings and would come over and make tacos for us if I supplied the beer.

By this time Crosby and I have been friends for over three years. We have a closeness, yet an understanding, that we are best friends and that we should not fuck up our friendship with sex. Crossing that line would complicate and probably destroy our unique relationship. We talked that through in the first few months, we even shook hands on it. That agreement has worked out well all these years until that particular taco night.

The dinner was great. We drank several bottles of Corona while we ate and talked. Usually, our talks are about everything that close friends would talk about. Her being a woman and me being a man led to interesting viewpoints. Where sometimes we disagreed, which was fine, the trust factor in our relationship was stronger than our own opinions.

After dinner, we sat at the table for an hour and conversed about a lot of subjects but never politics, neither of us found that interesting. I don’t remember now which one of us suggested to bring out the bottle of tequila. I do remember setting the bottle on the table with two shot glasses. Crosby picked up all the dishes off the table and stacked them in the sink while I poured the first of two agreed upon shots.

Those two shots and the conversation went on for quite awhile. The two shots ended up being several more, but at that time we both didn’t care. We laughed and in between laughs we fell into deep serious conversations. Crosby and I were emotionally connected but I could feel something different that night. So we did another shot. The Blue Agave haze had us right where it wanted us. We slammed the glasses down on the table at the same time. The conversation stopped as we swallowed the tequila. We didn’t say a word but we both stared passionately into each other’s eyes. It could have been a telepathic conversation but whatever it was the handshake promise of no sex ended with that shot on that night.

Crosby got up and sat in my lap. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply. That kiss was aggressive and soft. She made love to me with that kiss. I had nowhere to go with my arms except around her waist. I wrapped my arms around her while we kissed again. I held her tight while she started to grind slightly on my lap.

Crosby looked at me and her expression told me what she wanted. Both of us knew what was coming next and nothing had to be said. A minute later we both were naked in bed and three years of unchecked passion exploded. We could not stop, there was no turning back, this was a one-way ticket and we both were in for the ride.

After we had sex Crosby turned away from me and fell asleep. I laid there for a few minutes trying to capture what really just happened. In one ear the Blue Agave whispered that this was real, in the other ear, I heard it was only a dream. I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I woke up and the bed was cold next to me. I sat up in bed and looked around. I listened and did not hear any sound. I got up and slipped on my underwear and went into the kitchen. The bottle of Blue Agave and two shot glasses still on the table. I went into the bathroom. Crosby was gone.

The only evidence that she was there were the dirty dishes in the sink and those shot glasses. I stood next to the table in my boxers with my arms crossed and tried to put together what had happened and how we broke our promise yet it felt so right. I was confused at where or when she had left.

As I drive home in my truck I remembered that night as if it were yesterday, but it was seventeen years ago. I called Crosby a thousand times. She never returned my phone calls. I went to her house, she was never there. I never saw her again and I wonder where she went? My friendship with Crosby still runs deeply in my soul and I can never completely get her out of my mind. I wonder why she left and why she never said goodbye? I wonder if she thinks about me once and awhile? Does she have a fond memory of our taco dinner and Blue Agave?

I’ve never married and I have dated plenty of wonderful women. The one thing I never did again, make a handshake promise that we would only be best friends. My friendship with Crosby lasted three years and in one night of uncontrollable love making it destroyed us. In some ways, my life is better for that experience but the loss is as equally great.

I pulled my truck into the driveway and switched off the ignition and smiled. I’m thinking, is it really possible to fry an egg on the sidewalk?