Chapter 36 Phillips 66 Credit Union

Around Christmas time used to bake assorted German Christmas cookies pack them in the little tin cookie cans from Pier One Imports and take them to the tellers at the Phillips 66 credit union. 

 

There was a tall attractive gal who worked there.  She eventually made it to head teller if I recall.  I can't remember exactly how we met outside of the Credit Union, probably at Happy Hour at Patrick's or the DI or maybe a party. I cannot remember, but I bet she could.  Women remember that kind of thing. 

 

She lived in Ramona with her parents I believe.  She was a single mom.  I don't remember much about how we started off, but I think she came home from the DI with me one weekend night.  It turned into a thing that happened every now and then.   Not always at my place but always on her terms.  She's leave early so as to be home when her child woke up.  She'd leave notes in the mailbox at my house asking if I was going to be free and if I was, then we’d meet up.  I guess we defined the term FB..fuck buddies before there was a term for it.

I remember one weekend she was house-sitting, so I met her where she was staying.  We watched TV had some wine and had sex.  Nice simple, no strings attached.

I guess she was lonely and just wanted company and sex.   Those terms are usually agreeable to a guy, they were with me.   I don't ever recall the subject of a relationship ever coming up, we just had the occasional night together enjoying each other and that was it.  I guess she had enough in her life raising a child on her own.   I recall she finally did get married again and moved out of the area.  Before I left for Houston she had been promoted to Head Teller.  She was an all-around nice young woman.

There was one fringe benefit, she would call me if an incoming check of mine was not going to clear and hold it for me till I could transfer some money to cover it.

 

I never once met the kid, so she was on the ball there.   Why?    Years later when I was dating I recall going on a date with a blond gal, another single mom and she dragged me back to her house after a date to meet her son.  If she was trying to fill the void left by the absence of the kid’s father, she was doing it all wrong.  I tried talking to the kid, and he said, “Don’t waste your time trying to be nice to me.  I know you won’t be around in a week.”  The kid was older than his years and had been irrevocably scarred by his mom’s frequent dalliances and inability to stay in a lasting relationship.  That was enough to kill any desire I might have had for GI Jane (she had just finished a stint in the army).  As much as I wanted to, I could not have bonked her there knowing her son would probably be listening to the headboard pound the wall.  I had kids of my own at that time and I didn’t want to think about them being in the same position.

This brings me to Miss Brown.  Miss Brown was a sweetie that I met at the YMCA gym.  I used to watch her pump out set after set of squats.  She had a bum on her that you could have bounced a baseball off of and thighs that would have made Mr. T cringe.  She had short blond hair and a cute face. 

 

This was just another demonstration of how small Bartlesville was and is.

 

Turns out her mother was a loan officer at the credit union.  I had gone in to open a signature loan line of credit and her mother is the loan officer I spoke with.  I don't think her mother ever knew about me.  As it turned out Ms Brown and my friendship was short lived.

 

We ran around for a short while but it was doomed because she had made up her mind to move to Tulsa.  At the time I couldn't blame her.  I wanted to leave too but was saddled with a house.  There was little opportunity for her in Bartlesville.  I went to visit a time or two in Tulsa, after she moved into her new apartment.  I seem to recall even going furniture shopping with her to the big what’s it’s name warehouse furniture place.  We went out for lunch and spent a bit of time together.  I would have liked to get to know her better, but it was not to be.  I am kind of surprised I didn’t’ run into her when I bounced at Incahoot’s but she struck me as more the country and western cowgirl, so she probably frequented Wild West or some other place on the east side.  Regardless she was a sweetheart.