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Minny tanks to Teloz for him’s fine ediitin’ job, er my story wuld have turned out like this sentence. There is a great deal of truth in this story, I’m just not good enough to make this stuff up.
The ice princess was the keeper of the gate to the Provost Marshal’s Office at Fort Polk, Louisiana, and her desk was at the top of the stairs. They called her the ice princess, but they were wrong.
Her real name was Linda Peroni, she was a civilian secretary, but if you dared to ascend the stairs and didn’t have official business, she was quick to share her desire for you to disappear. It was a long walk back down those stairs for many a wannabe Casanova. Linda Peroni was a beautiful woman; she was a curiosity for all the testosterone fueled young MP’s, the word was she was divorced, but nobody knew for sure. She was a curvy Italian American woman approaching thirty, 5’5″ with long wavy black hair, full pouty red lips; she looked like the girl next door on the verge of going very, very, bad.
She dressed to avoid bringing attention to herself, but the second her body was in motion she oozed sexuality, and there wasn’t a heterosexual male around who didn’t notice. She was solid, with tight hips, a magnificently proportioned derrière, and breasts the size of grapefruits that were alive under her conservative blouse. She walked with a confident indifference, breasts slightly bouncing giving every male an idea that those too were as solid as the rest of her. She wasn’t in anyway fat; she was just built like the proverbial brick shithouse.
The Provost Marshal (PM), a Colonel, was essentially the chief of the Military Police. His offices were in an old WW II era building, a long two story wooden structure that had seen better days. The police desk, complete with a dispatcher’s office and temporary holding cells, was downstairs. It shared the bottom floor with the Traffic Accident Investigation Unit. The Chief’s office, guarded by Linda, and his pool of assistants shared the top floor with the Civil Liaison/AWOL Apprehension unit.
Little did I know I was about to have the opportunity of my young lifetime. I was twenty-one years old and a former surfer boy from Newport Beach, California, and had been an MP at Fort Polk for 18 months. I was closing in on the halfway point of my enlistment in the US Army. I signed up for four years, and I had received my orders transferring me to Germany.
I’d had a great time at Fort Polk, home of the Army’s 5th infantry division. I worked as a patrolman on the post with a population of approximately 25,000 soldiers, their dependents, and support personnel. Located in western Louisiana, Ft Polk was in the boonies, and there really wasn’t much for a city boy to do for entertainment but drink, work out, and chase girls. As a patrolman, there was never a dull moment. When you have sixteen thousand single guys between the ages of 18 and 25 who get paid on the same day, just add alcohol and it’s bound to get crazy.
Due to my transfer orders, I was considered a short-timer and it was time for me to leave active patrol duty. I would be gone in three months and I couldn’t get involved in something that required me to testify in a trial down the road. Flying us back and forth for trials was avoided at all costs. So it was standard procedure to end your exposure 90 days prior to transfer.
They had all sorts of jobs for short-timers; working in the armory issuing weapons, maintaining jeeps in the motor pool, or any number of support or gopher jobs. I had been in the right place at the right time though, and landed the mother lode of short timer jobs, I was to be the new Colonel’s driver. These days they’d call me an assistant, but this was 1983. The job required me to be armed with a standard issue M1911A1 (.45 caliber automatic pistol) and to drive the colonel wherever he needed to go. The majority of my work was to support the MP HQ. I was a driver, a bodyguard, and a gopher. I moved communications between different offices and commands, and provided whatever help I could, simple as that.
My workload went through Linda Peroni’s desk. Up to that point she was just a talked about goddess who I’d had fleeting glimpses of. She was also someone I’d never had an interest in. I’d stared at her just like the rest of the boys, but I wasn’t the ‘standing in line for a shot’ type of guy.
They say that doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result is the definition of insanity. Therefore mass insanity, by definition, must have been the herd of guys who filed up those stairs only to be sent back down by the chilly reception from Ms. Peroni. Not one guy ever managed more than a hello from her, much less a date.
I had my fun with the girls, but Ms. Peroni was a wet dream that I’d never considered as a target for my affections. Why wade into the testosterone filled fray just to get shot down? I guess for some guys it was a point of pride, but I just saw it as a complete waste of my time. There were plenty of mousy canlı bahis şirketaleri little brunette girl next door types for me to chase, I liked them best anyway; they were wholesome, they didn’t flaunt themselves or have a sense of entitlement like the wannabe MTV babes you found in the nightclubs. Besides, it was my experience they could out fuck a bimbo by a mile once you got past their defenses.
My first day on the job I climbed that long set of stairs and came face to face with the Ice Princess. I was nervous, but I had a job to do, and I prided myself on doing things to the very best of my ability. So came my first experience with Linda Peroni and she didn’t disappoint.
“Good morning, can I help you private?”
There was indifference in her tone as she spoke without giving me more than a cursory glance while continuing to shuffle papers at her desk. I wasn’t a private, I had worked hard and earned three promotions to get out from under that label. My rank was Specialist 4 (Spec4, equal to a corporal, but a corporal is considered a non-commissioned officer.) So I just stood staring at her.
“What do you need private?”
“It’s Specialist Fitzpatrick ma’am. I’m reporting for duty as the Colonel’s driver.”
She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me. Whether she liked it or not, we were going to be seeing a lot of each other, and she started sizing me up right away. I wasn’t immune to her looks, but I certainly didn’t like her attitude and that trumped any physical attraction.
“You report to the Assistant PM Major Jackson. His office is next to the Provost Marshal’s. All your assignments will flow through Mrs. Beliveau, the colonel’s secretary, which she generally hands off to me. You can go back and introduce yourself.” She held up her hand and pointed the way then turned back to paperwork therefore dismissing me.
“Thank you ma’am.”
I found Mrs. Beliveau, who demanded I call her Hattie. She was a slight older woman who, I found out later, was a joy to know. She sat me down and told me about the inner workings of the section then took me around and introduced me to the secretaries. Each of them was welcoming and kind. My spiel to them was, ‘just let me know what I need to do to make your job easier.’ they each gave me a brief explanation of how I could support them, then I met briefly with Maj. Jackson. The Colonel was away for the week so I didn’t get to meet with him. Hattie took me back into her office.
“Ok Chris, that should about do it. Just communicate with us and everything will be a piece of cake. Look, you’ll have to deal with Ms. Peroni for most of your tasks. She can be a bit standoffish, but she’s actually a nice lady. Just give her time to come around.”
“Thanks Hattie, I aim to please. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll do whatever it takes to help.”
So it began. The girls kept me busy, but Linda acted like I didn’t exist unless she needed to give me an assignment. I belonged here, and I kept every interaction with her totally professional so I didn’t give her any reason at all to play ice princess with me, but she did anyway.
I had been talking to my roommate Paul about Linda. Like most of the guys, he was curious about the hottie at the top of the stairs. Paul was 5 or 6 years older than me. He had joined the Army in his mid twenties, and was someone I looked up to. Where girls were concerned, Paul was quite the ladies man. We’d been out together and I’d seen his skills first hand. He’d also been one of the many to get shot down at Ms. Peroni’s desk. I had been filling him in for the last week on just how chilly she was with me.
Paul smiled and said, “You wanna have some fun with her Chris?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s used to every guy falling all over her. Do the opposite, treat her like she doesn’t matter to you in the least. You don’t have to be rude, you just have to show her you have no interest in her at all. If you do it right, there’s a good chance she’ll start wondering why you don’t like her.”
I thought for a moment then said, “So what good is it to get her to hate me? I have to work with her and I don’t want to start any shit in the office. This is a cake job.”
Paul laughed, “You idiot, if you do it right she won’t hate you, you’ll become a challenge to her. She knows she can snap her fingers and have a hundred guys lining up just to hear her fart over a field phone. You’ll be the exception, the one she can’t control. It’ll driver her crazy.”
“So, how does this work?”
“Well, make sure you are sugar sweet to all the other secretaries, treat them like queens. She’ll see that and wonder why she’s different. It’s like divide and conquer. Don’t be too rude, If she gives you shit, give it back the same way. Just let her know you couldn’t care less about her. Her power over you is your interest in her.”
I didn’t know if Paul was baiting me, but it was an interesting concept. He gave me some ideas, and I went to work the next morning canlı kaçak iddaa with a different mindset.
Physically I was the best shape of my life. I worked out quite a bit and ran 5 miles three times a week. I stood 6’1″ 180 pounds, with sandy blond hair and wicked blue eyes. I was a good looking kid. You don’t get the job I had unless you had an excellent overall appearance. You represented the MP’s wherever you went. I spent a good hour each day getting my uniform as sharp as possible, and my jump boots were shined to the point of looking like black glass.
When I climbed the stairs that morning she was there waiting and said, “Morning Fitzpatrick.”
I went to my inbox and grabbed a couple of packets that needed to be delivered to the commanding general’s office, then made it a point to say a cheery hello to every secretary in the office. I was on a first name basis with all of them, with the exception of Ms. Peroni.
I announced to the room that I was heading out, and asked if anyone needed me to pick up anything for them. On occasion I grabbed drinks or snacks for the girls, this time I got a round of no thank you’s.
As I was headed to the stairs she said, “I prefer to be addressed as Ms. Peroni, not Peroni. “
“That’s fine Ms. Peroni, I prefer Specialist Fitzpatrick if we’re being formal, “then down the stairs I went. I made my rounds and got back forty five minutes later.
As I passed her desk she got cute. “Mr. Fitzpatrick, I have some mail that needs to go over to the 258th MP Company.”
“Sure thing Private Peroni. I’ll pick it up on my way out.” I winked at her and walked away. Hattie had been walking across the office, heard our conversation, and called me into her office.
“Chris, what was that all about?”
“I’m just setting some boundaries. Hattie, I understand she gets a lot of unwanted attention, but I’ve been nothing but professional with her. So I figure if I treat her like she treats me she may eventually decide to be nice.”
Hattie laughed, “Oh my, this is going to get interesting.” She then gave me a bit of a warning and said, “Keep it professional Chris, and good luck.”
What I wasn’t privy to, was that the girls in the office were pretty tight and had been working on getting Ms. Peroni to lighten up a bit. They cared for her, and they all thought it was time she got a man back into her life.
Over the next week or so Linda and I kept at it. If she was rude I mirrored her. If she was indifferent, I was as well, and I never initiated contact that wasn’t business related. We did have some short conversations that were cordial, and I detected a slight shift in her attitude as if she was starting to thaw. She actually smiled at me when I came in Monday and said, “Good morning Chris.”
“Good morning Linda” I kept walking not waiting for an answer. When I got to my inbox outside the Colonel and Hattie’s offices I saw her out of the corner of my eye, she was just sitting there staring at me.
Andrea, the only other 20-something secretary in the office, walked up beside me. “Chris, what’s going on with you and Linda? She’s been asking about you.”
Andrea was dating an MP named Dan, a friend of mine who worked downstairs. Andrea was a sweetheart, open and friendly, and we got along great.
“Nothing’s going on Andrea. You know how she is with the guys, and she’s been giving me the same treatment. I guess I’m guilty of having a penis, and somehow that seems to offend her. I’ve just been giving it back a bit. I’m not interested in stroking her ego, and I think that somehow offends her.”
“It also gets her attention Chris. I think you’re up to something, and to be honest I hope it works. She needs to get out, she’s been divorced for a year and it’s time she came out of her shell.”
“That’s nice, but I won’t be making any moves on her. If she wants something from me, she can ask for it herself.”
Andrea laughed, “Little boys shouldn’t play with fire.”
“I’ll be sure to pass that along to the first little boy I see.”
Yes, it was working! Normally I can be a bit shy at first if I am interested in a girl. Linda Peroni was all woman, but because of this banter we had I wasn’t nervous or shy around her at all. If this worked she would have to make every move herself, I just had to hang in there and stick to the plan and not cave to desire. Paul had told me the second I gave in and made a move she would probably shoot me down with a vengeance. The ball was always gonna have to be in her court.
I told Paul about it that night and he was almost giddy.
“It sounds like you have allies upstairs Chris, use them for information. They’ll probably try to hook you two up but don’t fall for it; she needs to do all the work.”
Tuesday Linda asked me what I was doing for lunch and I said, “The usual, I’m going to experience the fine cuisine at the chow hall.”
“We’re all going to the Trough.” The Trough was a little dive just off post that actually canlı kaçak bahis served wonderful southern and Cajun food.
“Awesome, enjoy your lunch, the food there is great.”
“You’re welcome to come Chris.” She tried to say it casually, but I caught the edge in her voice.
“Are you asking me out to lunch Linda?”
“No! I was just letting you know we’re going to lunch and you were welcome to tag along.”
“Well thank you, but I think I’ll stick to my routine.”
She broke eye contact, and I actually felt bad. But I heeded Paul’s warning and hoped he was right. This was against my nature. That afternoon I got another visit from Andrea.
“She’s pissed at you Chris.”
“Why, what did I do now?”
“She said you blew off her invitation for lunch.” Andrea was trying unsuccessfully not to smirk. I was sure she knew exactly what I was doing.
“Invitation? She told me I could tag along with the group. What gives her the right to be pissed because I declined to ‘tag along’. Besides, who is she to get upset about someone turning down a date, she holds the post record for that”
She was laughing now, “Ok smart ass, if she invited you to go to lunch with her, will you?”
“If she asks me she’ll find out.”
I couldn’t help smiling. The fact is, I thought Linda Peroni was about the sexiest woman I had ever laid eyes on in my young life. I wanted her so bad that I was willing to play this game all the way to the end as I thought it was my only hope. To be honest, I hadn’t even considered if it would really work because I didn’t want to deal with the disappointment if it didn’t.
Wednesday morning she was at it again. “So Chris, are you going to take me to lunch today?”
Did she really just invite me to take her out, or was she asking me out? That was tricky and I wanted to play this right.
“I’m confused, was that an invitation for me to take you to lunch, or did you just ask me out?” I saw the red creep into her cheeks and I am sure it was more anger than blush. She let go with both barrels.
“Jesus, you’re such an ass, if you don’t want to go out just say so!”
I was startled by the passion in her voice. Part pissed, part hurt, and it felt like there was even some desperation. I felt bad, but a bit miffed as well. I was playing the game my way, she was playing her way, and I was winning. Apparently it wasn’t something she was used to.
“Linda, I’m a straight shooter and I don’t play coy little girl and boy games. You’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on, but that amounts to a hill of beans when you make a point of offending me every chance you get. These ladies here tell me you’re a wonderful and kind woman, but they shouldn’t be the ones to tell me that, your actions should. Now, I have lunch plans today with Andrea and Dan, and you are certainly welcome to join us.”
She sat there looking at me with her mouth open. I noticed the absence of the usual typewriter noise in the background as well. We had an audience. She looked down, then back up and locked eyes with me, and I could see the wheels turning.
“Did you just ask me out?”
Fuck, she was incorrigible. “No, but I did invite you to tag along.”
She laughed, “Touché.”
I noted she didn’t answer the offer, but she was smiling.
I drove over Jimmy’s Sport Bar and Grill to meet Dan and Andrea for lunch. I walked in and spotted them at a table in the corner, and much to my delight Linda had decided to tag along. I was thrilled, but tried to act like it was nothing. We all talked through lunch and I learned that away from the office Linda was actually quite funny and smart.
They asked me what it was like growing up on the beach and being a surfer boy, and the gist of my reply had to do with becoming immune to women in bikinis. Smokin’ hot girls were a dime a dozen, but finding one who was down to earth with a good personality was difficult.
Linda surprised me when she said, “I’m sure a guy with your body and looks had to fight off the girls.”
“Nah, I’m a lover not a fighter, but thanks for the compliment.” That got me a snort or two from around the table.
I found out Linda had grown up on a farm in rural Ohio and had been quite an athlete, which explained that body. She said she still worked out several times a week. The subject got around to dating, and when I asked her why she didn’t date she told me she’d had offers, but she just wasn’t ready.
“Besides, three quarters of the guys ask my tits out, not me. They actually stare at my chest and start talking, for fucks sake.” Dan nearly spit his iced tea across the table and I laughed out loud.
I had a good time and walked her to her car as we were leaving. When she turned to me I noticed something about her I’d never seen before. Her nipples were poking through her shirt and I tried like hell not to stare. I opened her door for her, and she hesitated for a second before getting in. That was a prime opportunity for a thank you hug or kiss on the cheek, but that wasn’t in the plans. I thanked her for coming and told her I hoped she would again. The four of us met again twice more that week, and each time it ended with just a goodbye. Neither of us had yet to cave and asked the other one out.
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