Dorsai
Kelly's Adventures
My best friend in the world was Paul.
Divorced with 3 kids, I helped him out in his job as a salesman when I watched out for his kids when he had to go out of town on business. They were good kids, so it wasn't much of a problem. When his daughter, Jan, was in high school, I was watching out for them one time when I accidentally interrupted her while she was masturbating.
That one event led to changes in my life that I had never even considered: from getting her started on learning sex education on the Internet (she and Paul's other kids attended Catholic schools, where sex ed wasn't well thought of), things progressed to introducing her, and her best friend Kelly, to physical intimacy.
Then things progressed to teaching several of their other friends about love, and sex. When all was said and done, I'd deflowered a half-dozen girls before they even graduated high school – including Jan, with Paul's explicit permission. To top things off, the extremely intelligent and attractive Kelly had fallen in love with me, as I had with her, and moved in with me. After high school, she'd gone on to attend college, majoring in mathematics and philosophy. On graduation, she'd gone to work for me in my engineering business.
She'd been working for me for a little over a year when one of my customers (a loyal bunch – they knew that despite my rates, I was actually saving them money with my designs) let me know that they were seriously considering opening a manufacturing facility overseas – specifically, the Philippines. Knowing I'd spent time there while in the Navy, they asked me to take the lead on finding them a good site for their plant. After a few days of exhaustive discussions detailing what they needed, what they wanted, what they'd like to have, costs for land/labor/materials, and so on, I agreed. My job wasn't to actually sign any contracts or anything; rather, I was to narrow down the number of choices to a half-dozen or (preferably) less. That done, I'd go back with a few of their people to make introductions and get things started.
From there, their own people could take over to make the final selection, and seal the deal.
As I pointed out to them, my knowledge of the Philippines and its people was limited, and likely years out of date. Their response was to observe that it was still infinitely better than anyone else's that they thought they could trust with the job.
With the details of who and what and when and where worked out, we signed a contract for my services: I was to go there for a period of four to eight weeks, returning with between two and six potential sites that met a checklist of requirements necessary to support their facility. I was also to return with the names of at least two lawyers to represent them, and a detailed list of the various legal and financial requirements they'd have to meet, as well as the names and titles of any government officials that they'd be dealing with. It wasn't a small task, and they knew it – they didn't grumble in the slightest at the hefty fee I was charging them.
They were willing to pay Business Class airfare; I got a price quote for that rate to submit with my expense report, and then bought First Class tickets. Yes, ticket*s*. Kelly had made it quite clear early on that if I went on any business trip without her, I'd come home to a house without her in it. I didn't think she'd actually DO it, but she'd made her point. If I was going to the Philippines, I wasn't going alone. The departure date was for a good six weeks away – ample time to get passports for me and Kelly, get my other clients set up to deal with my absence, and make all the other arrangements. As always, my secretary worked wonders for me, and I made a silent vow to bring her something extra special from the Philippines.
Still, I had to deal with such things as doing some research on the Philippines as it was at the time, and contacting a company in the Philippines to arrange for a guide and driver. Then contacting that guide – a Miss Marlyn Ramos, age 32 – to let her know what I was going to be there for, and what places I wanted to visit, so that she could make the hotel reservations and such – ensuring that we got the best possible rates. From previous experience, I knew that given a chance, too many businesses there had Filipino (regular) and American (inflated to varying degrees) prices for about everything. She was also the one to make contact with the officials in the different cities that we expected to visit, ensuring that we would have access to them when the time came.
At her suggestion, I agreed that she would be the one to hire our driver – so that he could also pull duty as a guard for us for increased pay.
Americans weren't immune to the political kidnappings that happened there, and she assured us that our driver/guard would be there for more than mere appearances. With the knowledge of what we were there for, and the main places we wanted to go, I gave her authority to make additions to our itinerary, and take care of the sequence and scheduling. She even emailed us a brief description of her qualifications for the job, along with her description and a digitized photo we could use to help identify her at the airport. When Kelly saw it, she just looked at it for a while, without saying anything. We responded in kind, sending descriptions and digitized photos of the two of us, as well.
With that taken care of, all that remained was to try to ensure that the house didn't burn down and that our cat, Cat, didn't starve while we were gone. Jan and the others quickly worked out a system and schedule of who would be doing what, and when, to make sure things would still be there when we got back. Every last one of them flatly refused any kind of compensation or offer I made them to repay them for their help; I quietly resolved that they would not go unrewarded – I remembered the beauty and delicacy of the silverwork I'd seen in Baguio, years before.
The fateful day finally arrived. Paul took time off from work to take us, along with Jan and one of her friend, Sandra, to the airport to see us off. We were flying a U.S. airline as far as Los Angeles; from there it was Philippine Air Lines the rest of the way. We got to the airport in plenty of time, and didn't have any trouble getting our tickets in hand, or our baggage checked through. Kelly and I both kept a carry-on, though, with a couple changes of clothes in it – while I expected our luggage to arrive with us, it wasn't something I was willing to bet money on. Paul and the rest kept us company as we made our way toward the gate – even going through the security checkpoint with us so they could stay with us as long as possible. Jan and Sandra were both terribly jealous of Kelly getting to go with me; Kelly was both frightened and excited at the prospect: her biggest adventure to that point had been when her parents had taken her on vacation to Canada one summer, when she was still a child.
Finally, it was time: Paul and the others gave us a final hug and kiss (okay, Paul only kissed Kelly) before watching us head down the jet way to our plane. As the plane backed up, we could see them watching us through the big terminal windows. We waved, and they saw us well enough to wave back before we lost sight of them.
The flight to L.A. was pretty typical. Granted, in First Class we got a little better treatment than the thundering heard in Coach. But really, at 30,000 feet and 400 miles an hour, what can you do? Things improved somewhat after our two-hour layover in L.A., and we boarded the flight to Manila, via Hawaii and Hong Kong. Once airborne, the flight attendants (all young, female, and cute as could be) quickly began pampering us. When one of them brought us our drinks, I thanked her in Tagalog, the 'common language' of the Philippines – it being slightly more common than English, and a definite improvement over the multitude of local dialects. She looked surprised at my 'Salamat po!' (honorific version of 'Thank you'), and asked where I'd learned Tagalog. I told her that I'd been stationed there, and was going back on business. I added that my wife and business assistant – indicating Kelly – was going with me; her first trip outside the U.S. The flight attendant told us her name was Mhay, and that she would be happy to come back and visit with us. Kelly thanked her, and Mhay dimpled prettily before moving on to take care of some other passengers.
Kelly leaned over to whisper in my ear 'She is such a doll!' then looking around and adding 'They ALL are! Are all the women there this pretty?'
'Nope. Most, but not all. These are the cream of the crop, so to speak.
They don't have any problems there about hiring practices, so the airline is free to hire only the prettiest young girls they can find. A job like this – travel, good pay, plenty of chances to meet eligible men – is highly desirable, so they don't lack for applicants.'
Kelly poked me in the ribs, and said 'No, really, what are they like?'
'I just told you. Think about it – do you think a businessman on a trip wants to look at the guy that served US on the way to L.A., or somebody that looks like one of these? Then think about why the airlines would hire that guy anyway.'
